Promises To Keep
by yassandra
Summary: A threat to a friend draws Jason, Pythagoras and Hercules into a web of danger and deceit. With lies, intrigue and alternative agendas all around will Jason be pushed into a future that he does not want...
1. Chapter 1

A/N So here we are at the start of a new story.

This is the sequel to Where The Wind Blows and it really will make much more sense if you have read that (and indeed Invictus) first.

As before this is _not_ a slash story.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter of Where The Wind Blows. I promise that reviews do mean an awful lot to me...

With that in mind please review this one too. I hope you all enjoy it! :-)

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><p><em><span><strong>Promises To Keep<strong>_

_Whose woods these are I think I know._

_His house is in the village though;_

_He will not see me stopping here_

_To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_My little horse must think it queer_

_To stop without a farmhouse near_

_Between the woods and frozen lake_

_The darkest evening of the year._

_He gives his harness bells a shake_

_To ask if there is some mistake._

_The only other sound's the sweep_

_Of easy wind and downy flake._

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep,_

_But I have promises to keep,_

_And miles to go before I sleep,_

_And miles to go before I sleep._

_(Robert Frost – Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening)_

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><p>Jason bit his lip and counted the meagre supply of coins in his hand again. He sighed. No matter how many times he counted it nor which way he looked at it it still wasn't enough. Why hadn't Hercules spoken to him sooner? He growled lightly in frustration. If he had known how short on money they were becoming he could have helped to do something about it. But no, Hercules hadn't told him; had once again been trying to protect him from the world and from the realities of life. Mustn't upset the family head-case he thought more than a little bitterly. He sighed again and ran one hand through his dark hair. That was uncharitable and unkind of him. The truth was that he knew that it was only a couple of months since he had had some kind of breakdown and both Pythagoras and Hercules had been unfailingly kind and supportive in the aftermath. It was just that even now they were walking on eggshells around him, clearly afraid of upsetting him and risking him falling apart again. The problem with that was that it was all beginning to get more than a little suffocating. While it was lovely that his friends were so concerned for his well-being he was used to having a lot more space – a lot more independence – than the other two seemed to be willing to give him. Sooner or later he was going to have to say something; to make them realise that he really didn't need protecting; that he was far from being as fragile as they both seemed to think. Yes he still had his dark days; days when the walls closed in on him; days when all he really wanted to do was shut himself off from the world; or lashed out angrily at his friends, only to feel guilty and apologise wholeheartedly later; but he needed to move on – to start living his life properly again. It was time to stop living in the past and start looking towards the future. But he wasn't entirely sure that either Pythagoras or Hercules was quite ready for that. It was a problem that he had been running over in his mind for a little while now. He would never want to hurt his friends or to seem ungrateful or uncaring but he needed to regain some measure of control over his own life; needed his friends to start trusting his reactions again; needed them to realise that he was not about to fall apart at a second's notice and that they could share the problems of the household with him without fear of upsetting him.<p>

Of course that brought him right back to their current predicament. There was once again little food in the house – only enough for two meagre portions and not three. Whilst there was still a little money in the joint fund it all came down to a simple choice – food or medicine. Jason sighed. It should have been a simple thing. There really shouldn't have needed to be a choice at all. But then, when had their lives ever been that easy?

The winter storms had been particularly harsh this year from what his friends were telling him. More often than not Jason found himself trying to spend as little time as possible out of doors, where the icy wind howled bone-chillingly through the bare streets, punctuated by lashing rain storms. If you took the wind away it wouldn't really be all that cold – it certainly wasn't on the rare occasions that the frigid gusts died down – but as soon as another storm hit the temperature plummeted. A knock on effect from that was that there simply weren't the ships arriving at the docks at the moment. The journey along the storm lashed coast-line and into the Atlantian harbour was too dangerous for all but the most fool-hardy sailors to attempt. It meant that all casual work at the docks had dried up for the time being, leaving Jason once again unemployed. Perdikkas, the harbour-master, had been deeply apologetic and had assured the young man that as soon as the weather improved and vessels started to return to the harbour his job would be available once again. As it was there wasn't really enough work for the permanent dockers let alone a young man employed on a casual basis.

Of course even that should not have been too much of a problem. Yes money would have been a little tighter for a while but Pythagoras had been putting a little away for a while now to see them through the lean times and there were always other ways of earning a few pennies here and there. But then disaster had struck. Jason couldn't always bring himself to believe wholeheartedly in the Atlantian gods but right now he thought that they were probably laughing. Why was it that whenever things seemed to be going well for the three of them something came along and everything blew up in their faces once more? In this case it had arrived in the form of a particularly nasty and virulent epidemic. One of those illnesses that spring up from time to time and strike down large swathes of the population – particularly the elderly, the infirm or the very young. In this case it was a respiratory illness and the corpse bearers had been unable to keep up with demand – bodies piling high in their workshops as they awaited preparation and burial.

Many of the poorest could not afford the services of a doctor and as these were also generally the most vulnerable – the elderly and infirm – they had sought aid from alternative sources. Many simply went to the healing shrine at the Temple and prayed for deliverance, but others looked for help from those who had some small skills in the healing arts but were not officially recognised as doctors. It was then that Jason came to realise just how respected Pythagoras was. The young genius had, it appeared, something of a reputation as a healer and, as his kind heart would not let him turn the needy away, the demands on his time had increased as the epidemic had progressed. Pythagoras had spent much of the next few weeks heeding the call of those less fortunate than himself and had spent most of his time travelling through the deserted streets between the houses of the sick, tending to those he could and helping to ease the sufferings of those for whom healing came too late. He had grown tired and drawn, his pale face becoming increasingly haggard despite his two friends' attempts to relieve as much of his burden as they could.

Jason sighed. It had been inevitable, he supposed, that in the end Pythagoras had succumbed to the same illness he had been treating for so many weeks. He had woken one morning feverish and restless, his throat sore and his lungs congested. By that time the worst of the epidemic had passed and life for most of Atlantis was beginning to return to normal. In spite of Pythagoras' protestations that all he needed was a little rest Hercules had called in a physician and it had been as well that he had. Within days the young mathematician had become dangerously ill, tossing from side to side in his bed, delirious and unable to recognise his friends, his lungs so congested that at times it seemed he could barely breathe. He had recovered slowly – his youth and general good health acting in his favour – but it was a slow process and he still required plenty of care and healing tonics.

Most of the saved funds had gone on that of course. Neither Hercules nor Jason had felt the need to discuss the matter – Pythagoras' health was far more important. Still, the big man had completely failed to let Jason know just how low the money was getting. He disappeared each morning in search of work leaving his dark haired companion to look after their blonde friend. So far he had been unsuccessful. Jason had discovered by accident just how little money they really had and had taken notice of how little food there really was in the cupboard. Of course making sure that Pythagoras ate as much as he could and got the medicines that were necessary were the number one priority to his younger friend. After which Jason decided that Hercules probably needed whatever food was left more than he did – after all the burly wrestler spent most of the day tramping the streets in search of employment and only returned to the house after sundown, cold and tired. Barring a few scraps reserved for Isosceles the kitten, that accounted for most of the food – although Jason had been careful to ration it as much as possible to make it last for as long as possible. Consequently the young man had not eaten for the last three days and it looked like today would be no different, he thought grimly. In fact there really was only enough food left for one more meal for his two friends and the small amount of coins in his hand needed to be used for medicine for Pythagoras.

Actually it was time for the young mathematician to take another dose, the last of the tonic that they currently possessed. Once he had ensured that Pythagoras had swallowed it, had eaten and was as comfortable as possible, Jason would slip out to the agora to fetch some more from the apothecary's stall that had sprung up on the one corner. It charged exorbitant prices but there was no other choice. Whilst Pythagoras himself might have managed to brew up a decent healing tonic from herbs he had gathered were he in good health, neither one of his friends possessed the same sort of skill. Briefly Jason wondered whether he could stay out a little longer today – have a look for some work himself. It all depended on how well Pythagoras was. Hercules would kill him for leaving the young genius alone for too long but in the end it might be the only thing that stood between the three of them and starvation. It had got to the stage where Jason was even willing to swallow his pride and beg for help from any friends he might have. But who could he ask? Ariadne was still as distant as the moon up at the Palace. If she knew the situation she would undoubtedly help but the Palace had been sealed off for the duration of the epidemic and he had no way of getting word to her. Meriones was abroad on one of his business trips and Talos had quite sensibly chosen to remove Castiantiera to the countryside in the early days of the outbreak – reasoning that his beloved daughter would be safer away from the city. No, there really was no one he could ask for help.

Gathering up the herbal tonic that Pythagoras was to take and fixing a bowl of bread soaked in a little milk and honey for the mathematician to eat, Jason stood and prepared to take what little bits he had to his friend. As he rose a wave of light-headedness briefly overcame him and he wavered, holding on to the table until the dizziness had passed. It would not do to let Pythagoras know that he hadn't eaten in the last few days of course – would only serve to make the gentle young man worry and feel guilty – anymore than it would help to let Hercules know. He could stand it for a little while longer; was strong enough and healthy enough to last a few more days; and hopefully by that time either he or Hercules would have found some work and would have some money coming into the house.

Jason turned as the door opened. Hercules was back early it seemed.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Hercules grunted.

"I needed food before I carried on," he said.

"There's bread on the shelves," Jason said softly.

Hercules crossed over and picked the bread up. Just as he was about to take a bite he paused and looked suspiciously at Jason.

"Where's yours?" he asked.

"I ate earlier," Jason answered with a smile, returning Hercules' hard look with an unwavering gaze of his own.

It was not actually a lie, he told himself, it was just that he hadn't said _how_ _much_ earlier. Somehow he didn't think his large friend would be very pleased to discover that "earlier" meant three days ago, particularly given how obsessive he felt the big man had become over his eating habits.

Finally Hercules nodded, clearly satisfied that Jason was telling the truth and wolfed down the small piece of bread he held in two short bites. Jason released the breath he had been holding silently and plastered on his best lop-sided grin.

"I'll be nipping out to the agora later to get some more tonic," he said. "Is there anything else we need?"

Hercules shifted uncomfortably, still not keen to admit to Jason that things were more than a little dire financially.

"Not that I can think of," he said, crossing his fingers behind his back and hoping against hope that he could find _something_ in the way of work today; something that would at least allow him to put a little food back on the table. "Right," he added with false cheerfulness, "the bills are not going to pay themselves. There's money to be made so best I get at it."

As Hercules went back to walking the streets looking for work, Jason made his way across to Pythagoras' room and pulled back the light curtain. The mathematician lay, pale and wan, dozing on his bed, propped up by as many pillows as could be found in the house. He didn't look quite as pale as yesterday, Jason noted, and although his breath still rattled in his chest it was nowhere near as loud as it had been. Pythagoras was most definitely on the mend. Hopefully he would be beginning to be up and around in a few days. Jason paused, taking in the thin frame and the limp blonde curls. Pythagoras had risked his life to help others – the way that he had for Jason so many times in the past – and had very nearly paid the ultimate price. Jason could not – would not – let him down.

Gradually the young man opened his eyes and blinked sleepily at his friend. Jason allowed his forced grin to become wider as he made his way over to Pythagoras' bed and perched on the edge.

"I brought you something to eat," he said lightly.

"What about you?" Pythagoras asked, as astute as ever. "Have you eaten?"

"I told Hercules I ate earlier," Jason managed to evade the question fairly neatly. "It's not much – just a bit of bread and milk – but I thought it would slip down nice and easily."

Pythagoras made a face.

"I'm not really all that hungry," he ventured.

"Come on," Jason coaxed. "You need to keep your strength up. Besides if it was me lying there you'd never let me get away with it."

Pythagoras smiled, a pale shadow of his usual expression, acknowledging the truth of what his friend said. They had been in the opposite situation before with Pythagoras trying to persuade Jason to eat when he was clearly unwell and didn't feel like it – and he had most definitely not allowed the other young man to get away with not eating. Slowly he nodded and drank the frankly vile tonic that the healer had suggested, shuddering slightly at the taste. Truthfully he believed that he could brew something much more effective and certainly more palatable himself but as at present that was not an option – and as he could not ask either of his friends to do it (Jason's grasp of herb lore was rudimentary to say the least and the gods only knew what Hercules would come up with) – he was stuck taking the awful concoction that Jason went to the apothecary to purchase. Pythagoras sighed. It went against his nature to put his friends to so much trouble but he could not even seem to get up the energy to get out of bed at the moment. The healer in him recognised that it would be better for everyone if he stayed put and allowed his body to heal and it did feel sort of nice to have someone else fussing around him for a change – even if that someone clearly wasn't all that sure about what he was doing and wasn't used to nursing anyone.

Tonic drunk, he turned to the small bowl of bread and milk that Jason had brought, noting with pleasure that his friend had not overfilled the bowl in the same way that Hercules would. Perhaps Jason understood that his appetite was poor at the moment. Something in his companion's face worried him though – a tiredness in those hazel eyes that did not belong there. Meal finished he turned back to Jason determined to get to the bottom of what his friend was thinking.

"Is everything alright?" he asked softly.

Jason ruthlessly suppressed a wince. Even sick Pythagoras was still one of the most perceptive and astute men he knew. For everyone's sake he could not afford to falter though. Somehow he just needed to earn a few small coins. Just enough to buy them a decent loaf of bread and everything would be fine. But oh gods he was so hungry right now that he almost felt faint. Willing his stomach not to rumble and give him away he smiled brightly at Pythagoras as he fixed the young man's pillows and drew the blanket a bit more firmly over his friend.

"Everything's fine," he said firmly. "I was just working out what I needed to get from the agora. I need to nip out and get some more tonic if you'll be alright on your own for a bit?"

"I will be quite alright," Pythagoras affirmed. "I doubt I will need the tonic for much longer though." He broke off as a hacking cough bubbled wetly from his throat.

"No of course you won't," Jason retorted sarcastically. He stood up quickly and picked up the bowl and cup from the floor by the bed. "Look just let yourself have a bit of a kip and I'll be back before you know it."

"A bit of a what?" Pythagoras asked with genuine confusion. He was by now used to most of Jason's strange sayings and phrases – even if he didn't always understand what they meant – but once in a while one of them would still catch him unawares.

"Go to sleep, Pythagoras," Jason said with a sigh. "You'll get better much quicker if you get some rest… isn't that what you always tell me?"

With one final check around him Jason headed out of the room, carefully pulling the curtain behind him, and crossed the room, intent on making his way to the agora and finding some sort of work.

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><p>A rare break in the winter storms had convinced Minos that now would be a good time to go back out into the city and make his presence known amongst the people once again. The recent epidemic had confined the royal household to the Palace for weeks now; the risk that the King, with his less than robust constitution, or Ariadne, as sole heir to the throne, might contract the fever had been far too great to take. For herself Pasiphae had been completely unafraid. She had he constitution of an ox and her special abilities and knowledge of herb lore meant that she was unlikely to contract anything unless she had prolonged exposure to it.<p>

Ariadne had found being confined to the Palace particularly hard, believing that her duty was to help her people as much as possible; to be seen amongst them in their hour of need. If the risks had been less then it would have been a clever political move, Pasiphae conceded as she sat at her dressing table brushing her long hair. The people would have loved their Princess even more for sharing in their sorrows and misfortunes. Innocent little Ariadne was becoming politically very astute, although in this case her stepmother believed that her desire to show solidarity with the beleaguered populous actually had more to do with both a misguided sense of duty and affection towards the people and the desire to check on the well-being of a certain dark haired young man.

Minos, however, had been adamant. He had told his daughter in no uncertain terms that her duty was to stay alive for the sake of the future of Atlantis and that she would therefore not be risking her life, or the lives of the other residents of the Palace, by making any unwise and ill-conceived visits into the city. The King had even gone as far as having the passageway between the Palace and Temple temporarily sealed and every door to the outside world locked and guarded to prevent his somewhat impulsive daughter from attempting to circumvent his rules.

The Palace had its own water supply of course and enough food in the storerooms to withstand months of siege. Still it was an inconvenience for Pasiphae to be locked inside with her husband and her despised stepdaughter – although the knowledge of the secret that they both shared had improved relations between the two women of late and, if they were still not exactly cordial, they were at least not at war at present.

Life over the last month had fallen into a routine – a tedious routine – and Pasiphae had awoken this morning with no real expectation that today would be any different from yesterday or the day before. The written summons from Minos, informing her that with the plague subsiding and the weather easing he would be riding out into his city to see and be seen and would expect her presence at his side, had come as somewhat of a surprise. Pasiphae did not like surprises. To her mind they only occurred as a result of poor planning – something she strove to avoid wherever possible.

She strode down the corridors towards the stables clad in her riding gear, barely registering the frightened looks and genuflections of those she passed. The recent epidemic had been an inconvenience. Had prevented her from implementing the first phase of her scheme to make Minos aware of her son's existence and to reconcile her husband to the boy's presence; to ensure that the King did not view Jason as a threat and to persuade him to allow the boy to live at her side. The King's mood had been black for weeks now because of the situation in the city and as a result the Queen had not dared to risk her son's safety by making any rash moves.

And just how had Jason fared in a city besieged by disease? Pasiphae knew that this illness was most dangerous to the infirm, the very young or the elderly and Jason fell into none of those groups. But he had also not been raised in Atlantis. Would he therefore be more susceptible to their diseases? Pasiphae shuddered at the thought. No, Jason was young and healthy and strong. She had no reason to believe that he had even caught the fever; had no reason to believe that he was anything less than robust and healthy. And yet her mind had conjured all sorts of horrific images over the last month. What was the use of all her power and wealth, she wondered bitterly, if she could not help – could not protect – the one person that actually meant something to her? The one person she longed to be able to acknowledge and openly show her love for. It was worth next to nothing, she decided, when her son had been trapped in the city with disease all around him and the death toll growing daily and she had been unable to do anything to help him. And Jason did not _belong_ there; did not belong amongst those _peasants_. It all seemed so unfair somehow.

With gentle hands she started to ready her sleek chestnut horse. She could have demanded that a servant prepare the beast for her of course, but in truth she preferred to see to the task herself. The beast was noble and highly strung and over the years she had owned him they had come to understand one another. The task of saddling her horse was one that she found peculiarly soothing. He was restive today and she soothed him with soft words as she carded her hand through his mane.

"He is a truly beautiful creature," Minos voice made her jump.

The horse nickered uneasily and moved awkwardly, clearly feeling her surprise.

"Much like his mistress," the King continued.

Pasiphae smiled coolly. It had been a long time since her husband had paid her a compliment of that nature and she found that it sat uneasily in her mind.

"You are too kind My Lord," she murmured.

"I speak only the truth," Minos asserted, coming forward and resting a hand on the dark mane. "You are ready." It was not phrased as a question.

"I am My Lord," Pasiphae confirmed, swinging herself up into the saddle.

Minos' horse was being prepared for him, she noted as she rode out into the courtyard to join the other members of her husband's retinue who were to venture into the city today. There was much muted grumbling amongst the courtiers. It amused Pasiphae to hear it. Many of those present were toadies and sycophants and would never dare to openly say no to their King or to allow him to hear them complain about this outing. It was obvious, however, that most of these fat, flattering fools felt that it was still too dangerous to be going out into a city where the epidemic still lingered – although it had largely died out – and resented the fact that they were being asked to risk their own skins – particularly this early in the morning. They were careful to keep their complaints quiet though and several openly cast fearful looks in the Queen's direction. They all knew that she could be terrible indeed when provoked.

Pasiphae smiled openly as Minos came out into the square and moved to greet him, playing the part of the dutiful wife to perfection as always.

"Ariadne will not be joining us My Lord?" she asked smoothly.

Minos smiled at the mention of his beloved daughter.

"No," he said. "Much as I feel the danger has largely abated I would still not risk her life unnecessarily. She will await our return anxiously." He smiled again. "I must confess that I think that Ariadne is hoping that the situation in the city will have improved enough to allow her to recommence her duties at the Temple. I have promised her that I will lift some of the current restrictions if that is indeed the case."

Pasiphae fought the urge to smirk knowingly. It was not her duties at the Temple that the Princess was missing she was sure. Sometimes Minos was remarkably naïve when it came to his daughter, still seeing her as the innocent little girl and not the strong young woman she had become. And it was typical, she reflected bitterly. He was more than willing to risk the health of his wife but not that of his daughter.

Something in her face must have alerted Minos to some of her feelings although he misread them completely. Drawing his horse nearer to hers he rested a hand on her shoulder.

"If you do not wish to come into the city I will understand my love," he said softly so that no-one could overhear them. "I would not have you risk yourself if you are not comfortable. I truly believe that there will be no danger to either one of us from this contagion now, but if you wish to remain here then I will raise no objection. I simply believed that it would be good for the people to see that we are unharmed and are sharing in their troubles by riding through the streets."

Pasiphae bristled slightly at the implication that she might be in anyway afraid. Minos did not know her well at all, despite the long years of their marriage, if that was what he truly believed. He is trying to be kind, she reminded herself. He is trying to spare me any discomfort. She raised an eyebrow coolly.

"I have not complained," she murmured, "and nor will I do so. I am in no way afraid for my own health. I merely worry that this excursion is unwise for you My Lord. If you believe that this is a risk that is worth your while to take then you will not find me wanting. I will be at your side every step of the way."

A brief smile graced Minos' thin face. His wife truly was a remarkable woman, he reflected. He took comfort frequently in her strength and her fire. Pasiphae was formidable at the best of times and when danger or disaster threatened she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Then we will ride out together," he declared. His eyes softened as he regarded her. "I take such comfort from your strength," he murmured.

As they rode out through the Palace gateway Pasiphae looked around herself grimly. It was unlikely that she would see Jason in the streets and even if she did she could not acknowledge the fact. And yet the mother in her jumped at the chance to reassure herself that the young man had come through the recent epidemic unscathed. If she could just see him… she ruthlessly clamped down on that thought. It would do no one any good for her to start acting like a needy and hysterical woman. She had never done it before and saw no reason to begin now.

The streets were beginning to return to their usual level of bustle and activity. Now the immediate threat of disease had passed, the merchants were once again beginning to hawk their wares in the agora and the populous was once again coming out of their houses to buy them. Here and there a market stall stood empty though, evidence of another citizen who would not return. Soon new traders would fill the empty slots but for now they acted as a reminder to the people of the sorrow they had so recently lived through. In a side street one of the death carts trundled along, evidence that the corpse buriers were still hard at work. The Queen's sharp eyes caught sight of it at once although she chose not to draw the attention of anyone in their party to its presence. There was no point upsetting the whining courtiers any more than they already were and really Minos was correct – there was little risk to any of their party now.

As they rounded a corner, horses moving at a brisk walk, the citizens dropped to one knee and bowed their heads as was customary in the presence of the royal family. Then she saw him. Jason was near the corner, by a stall that advertised the wares of a travelling apothecary who she noted dispassionately was distinctly overpriced. As they approached he dropped down like his fellow citizens, head bowed. The sight made Pasiphae's blood boil. _Her _son should not need to genuflect like a peasant – and certainly not in the presence of the snivelling toadies that accompanied her husband everywhere.

The Queen's eyes narrowed as she looked at Jason appraisingly – although she was careful to make it appear as though she was merely looking around the market square with her usual indifference. It would not do to draw attention to Jason by making others believe that she had some special interest in him; she could not expose him to that risk until she was ready to make her move and claim the boy as her own.

He looked well, she decided gratefully, although maybe a little tired and worried – but perhaps that was only to be expected given the recent situation in the city – and she was gratified to note that he seemed to have found some slightly more respectable clothes for once. Not that they were really suitable for a prince of course but at least they made him look a little less like a beggar and the tunic certainly looked a little warmer than his normal one.

The wind was beginning to pick up again. Pasiphae shivered slightly and drew her cloak a little tighter around her shoulders. Just ahead of her Minos was clearly impatient to move on; keen to see as much of the main city as he could and then return to the Palace before the weather closed in again. The Queen risked one final glance back over her shoulder as the party exited the market place. Jason had stood up as soon as the royal party had passed and returned to his business with the apothecary. What that business was Pasiphae did not know. As he himself appeared to be well perhaps one of his friends had fallen ill. She frowned at the thought that her son might have been exposed so closely to this contagion. The politician in her understood the need to keep Jason's parentage a secret at this moment in time and to wait to reveal the truth until the timing was most propitious and would give her the best possible outcome and the most political power; the mother, however, wanted nothing more than to scoop her son up and take him home, where she could be sure that she could keep him safe. Over the last month, with the fever raging in the city, she had nearly gone out of her mind with worry. When had she become so weak and irrational? She had always been a thoroughly political animal; completely focussed on her goals. And yet lately all it seemed to take was the glimpse of some dark curly hair or the sight of a young man running and her thoughts circled back once more to Jason. This current obsession had to stop. It would be better once he was living at the Palace she decided. When she could see him every day then he would no longer have to occupy so much of her waking thought.

As though he could feel her eyes on him, Jason turned and looked directly at his mother. For a moment their eyes met. Pasiphae nearly smiled. There it was. The spark that made Jason, Jason. The direct look that was almost a challenge and was certainly unafraid. He was brave, her boy. Few had ever dared to look at Pasiphae with such directness; without the subservience that she had become accustomed to. His posture had dropped back defensively – as though he expected an attack – but his dark eyes remained calm and unafraid whatever he was really feeling.

He thinks I will harm him, Pasiphae thought with a wrenching feeling. It was unpleasant to realise that her own son was wary of her; did not trust her. He does not know who I am, she reminded herself; he does not know what he is to me. She had been staring at him for too long. Had been careless and was beginning to attract the attention of her husband who had turned back to look at her curiously. With a jerk she forced her eyes back to the front before Minos could follow her gaze and see just what had captured her attention. Do not look back at him again, she repeated the mantra to herself; do not expose either yourself or him in that way. With a forced smile made natural through years of practice she rode forwards to re-join her husband and turned the corner, her son lost in the crowds behind. The Palace lay ahead. Now that she had assured herself of Jason's well-being it was time to begin her campaign to claim his as her own.

* * *

><p>Jason frowned. He had felt the Queen's eyes on him the way he had several times in the past. Yet this time had been different somehow. Always before her eyes had seemed to burn right through him. This time they had contained something different. If he didn't know any better he would almost have said that it was concern – affection even – although it had been well hidden. The gaze she had directed at him had seemed softer, more human. Mentally he shrugged. Whatever Pasiphae's game was he would be ready for an attack. The woman was after all a homicidal witch with megalomaniac tendencies. She was not someone to be underestimated and certainly not someone to be trusted. She hated Ariadne and by extension therefore hated him as well.<p>

Ariadne. He sighed softly. As always the beautiful girl was rarely from his thoughts. He smiled softly wondering what she was doing now.

"Oi! Did you want to pay for this or not?" the harsh voice drew him from his daydream.

Jason turned back to the glowering merchant with some consternation.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he reached into the small pouch tucked inside his belt and withdrew the last of the shared funds, handing them to the apothecary. The few small coins he received in return would not even be enough to buy a small loaf of bread.

Jason sighed. He had known that before he had come to the agora but it still left an unpleasant feeling to know just how close they were all coming to starvation once again. Still it could not be helped. If Pythagoras was to continue to get better then he needed to keep taking the medicine contained in the bottle that Jason now wrapped carefully in a cloth and tucked beneath the folds of the cloak he wore against the winter winds.

The cloak had been a present from Meriones, as had the tunic he now wore – long sleeved and made of soft and warm wool. The giant had turned up at the house one day with winter tunics for both Jason and Pythagoras. He had told them that they were the samples he had had Talos make up to check the quality of the workmanship and that he therefore could not sell them. It was a fiction he maintained of course so that his young friends would not feel as though he were offering them charity. As it was the tunics had been gratefully accepted with thanks – although both boys were looking for ways to repay the enormous merchant.

The bottle of medicine that he had tucked inside his cloak was important – precious even – given that they had no way of affording any more at the present time. Perhaps it would be a good idea to take the bottle home where it would be safe before going out in search of work. Plus it would allow him to make sure that Pythagoras was well enough to be left for a little longer.

Decision made, Jason turned and hurried back towards home.

* * *

><p>Three hours later Jason was just about ready to admit defeat. There really was no work to be found at the moment it seemed. The combination of winter storms and the recent epidemic had driven merchants away from Atlantis and closed down building projects as well as the port. He stopped for a minute crossing back through the agora to ease his aching feet. Everyone seemed so grim right now and a dark pall seemed to hang over the city depressing the spirits of the inhabitants and making them less than willing to help one another.<p>

Jason sighed. He supposed he would feel a lot more optimistic if his stomach wasn't quite so empty. A little while ago he had stopped by one of the fountains and drank more water than was perhaps good for him in an almost desperate attempt to ease the gnawing ache that had taken up residence in his belly. Now the water sloshed uneasily in his stomach and he grimaced at the feeling. The truth was that he knew he wouldn't be able to go on like this for much longer; knew that he was pushing himself to the limit. But for the sake of his friends he had to go on. Had to at least _try_ to make things better; to find some way of earning a few coins. With renewed determination he moved on, asking at every stall he passed whether anyone needed any errands running.

It was not to be his lucky day it seemed. No-one had any work. He paused again for a moment and instinctively reached out to grab a nearby stall to support himself feeling decidedly shaky and sick to his stomach as dizziness darkened the edges of his vision briefly. He closed his eyes to ride out the wave, opening them as the dizziness passed to look into the concerned face of Egina the milk seller.

"Are you alright lad?" she asked sharply.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "Sorry. I was just… thinking. I didn't mean to do any harm to your stall."

Egina waved off his apology with one hand.

"You've done no harm at all," she said. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him noting the absence of a milk jug or amphora. "You're not here for milk though are you?"

Jason looked momentarily abashed.

"No," he admitted. "I was going around the stalls looking for work. Seeing if anyone had any errands they needed running. I haven't had much luck though."

"Times are hard," Egina agreed. She looked hard at the young man not liking how pale he looked – although some colour seemed to be returning to him as they spoke. "There's lots in the city that are starving."

She watched the lad tense. Ah, so that was what was wrong. She had managed to push pieces of cheese on the young man before as gifts but somehow she knew that if she tried that this time he would refuse; would view it as charity. She could almost feel the desperation in him warring with his pride. Besides, even if she gave _him_ some food now there was still the two friends he was usually with. It was likely that they were all in the same position. Well she might not be able to feed them directly but there was certainly something she could do – not a lot to be sure but at least it would be better than nothing.

"As it happens I have a couple of errands that I need running lad," she said briskly. "I can't leave the stall at the moment so I could use your help. I won't be able to pay you much but it might at least keep the wolf from the door."

Much to Egina's confusion Jason couldn't help but blush at the mention of a wolf, remembering what had happened the last time he and his friends had run out of money.

"That would be great," he said. "It's Jason by the way… my name I mean."

Egina smiled.

"Well Jason," she said, "I have two jugs of milk that will need delivering to Glauce over by the Thálassas Gate. You won't be able to miss her house. It has all sort of pans hanging up outside it. Glauce is almost blind now and doesn't venture far from home, poor thing, but she says that the clanking of the pans help her to know when someone is coming to visit. After that I need you to take these cheeses to Abantes. He's one of the city guards and right now he should be patrolling the wall above the Telapius Gate. Normally he can wait for his order until after he has come off duty but I gather that it's his daughter's birthday and his wife has insisted that he goes straight home. She's a formidable woman, Abantes' wife – I certainly wouldn't like to argue with her – and neither does he apparently. I'll pay you for the errands now to save you having to come back here afterwards. You come to me for milk and, even if you didn't I know you have to pass my stall most days, so I know that you won't cheat me – not that I think you would anyway. I'm usually a pretty good judge of character."

Jason looked down at the handful of coins Egina had thrust at him. It would be enough to feed the three of them for nearly a week if they were careful and his calculations were correct. It was certainly more than he had expected to get from running a couple of errands. His conscience pricked him.

"You're paying me too much," he protested.

"Nonsense," Egina declared. "You're going to be doing me a big favour. Now here are the jugs and the cheeses, so get along with you. And don't let me see you back here until you've got some food inside you," she added with a significant glare.

Jason chuckled to himself as he trotted off to run the errands for the motherly woman. Egina it seemed was quite a force to be reckoned with herself and frighteningly perceptive.

Later, as he made his way back along the city walls he reflected on the errands that the milk seller had employed him for. Glauce had been a sweet old lady, riddled with what he guessed was probably arthritis and, as Egina had said, nearly blind. He had never had a grandmother but Glauce was everything he had ever imagined a grandmother might be like – she seemed to come straight out of a fairy tale. He had found that she was almost desperate for company and had sat with her listening to her stories for the better part of an hour before he had had to wrench himself away to complete his other delivery, having promised to visit the old lady again sometime in the near future. Abantes, on the other hand, had been terse and largely uncommunicative, receiving his goods with a brief expression of thanks before returning to his duties.

Now Jason was more than ready to go home. The blackness that had been lurking at the edges of his vision had increased and dark spots danced across his eyes occasionally. This was not good, he decided as he swallowed down a wave of dizziness. Perhaps it would be a good idea to purchase a little bread on his way home and to eat as soon as he got there. He could always go out later to buy supplies for the house.

As he reached the steps that led down from the wall a voice calling his name made him pause and turn quickly. Gelo, Meriones' right hand man, was approaching along the wall and had called out in greeting. Jason raised his hand vaguely. As it turned out though turning so quickly had not been a good idea. The world tilted alarmingly around him and he lurched sideways, his feet scrabbling at the very edge of the steps. The blackness at the edges of his vision spread rapidly, blinding him and he heard a rushing sound in his ears that almost obliterated Gelo's anxious cry. Jason had the vague sensation of falling and his last conscious thought before blackness claimed him was that Hercules and Pythagoras were really not going to be happy about this. Then he knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N So many lovely reviews! Thank you all so much for the support for the first chapter - especially to jmp and Angel since I can't thank you in any other way :-)

I hope you'll all stick with me for this chapter too (and a few more reviews would be nice... Yes I _am_ cheeky!)

* * *

><p>Gelo had seen Jason making his way towards the stairs that led from the top of the city wall to the street and had hurried to catch up. Having been out of town with Meriones on a long business trip he had been pleased to see the walls of Atlantis rising up ahead of them in the distance as they rode down towards the city. The journey home had been made longer and more complicated than it should have been by the high winds and heavy storms lashing the coastline and making it impossible for them to find a ship's captain in Athens that had been willing to risk sailing along the Atlantian coastline and into the harbour. Consequently what should have been a straight journey had become an island hopping logistical nightmare lasting several days longer than necessary, as they were forced to negotiate with different sea captains every stretch of the way just to get them a little further onwards, and culminating in a long ride down to Atlantis itself. Gelo had to admit that he had never been more pleased to see his home.<p>

It had therefore come as something of a shock to ride into the city last night and find the streets – usually teeming with people even at that time of the evening – almost deserted and a frightened atmosphere hanging in the air. This was a city under siege – albeit from disease rather than an invading army – weakened and isolated. Unsure as to what had effected the change in the usual atmosphere Gelo had been despatched to find Kerkyon and find out what was going on. The burly blonde had filled them in thoroughly. Gelo had watched Meriones' brow furrow in concern, his usually jolly face darkening. The giant had sighed and poured himself an extra-large cup of wine bidding his employees – although by now they were more like friends – to do the same. Over dinner he had noted that this would be an excellent time for a rival city to make an attack. The populous was severely depleted, debilitated by illness and prey to their own fears. An invading army would meet little resistance at the present moment. And everyone knew that the city had its enemies. It was a miracle that they had not been attacked already given the state they had been in, although, as Meriones observed, it would perhaps be a better idea for a rival state to wait for the plague to die down somewhat before invading – there would be little point in risking the health of their own army while death still stalked the streets of Atlantis.

Now though, with the contagion dying away, the city would be ripe for the picking. Gelo sighed. He had been sent out this morning to gather more information from one of Meriones' more reliable sources – one of the city guard who had over the years provided very useful (and usually extremely accurate) information and had lined his pockets with a little extra money in return. On his way back he had spotted Jason and, knowing that Meriones would like news of his friends – would like to make sure that they were all alright – called out to the young man.

His friendly greeting had died on his lips as the lad turned, however, and swayed dangerously on his feet, lurching slightly to one side as his face drained of all colour. With horror Gelo had cried out to the young man anxiously as Jason's eyes rolled back in his head and, unable to reach the lad quickly enough, had seen him collapse. He was simply too close to the top of the stairs and, as Gelo raced along the wall, had fallen like a rag doll, landing at the bottom in a tumbled heap.

Gelo would never know how he managed to get to the bottom of the steps as quickly as he did without falling himself, taking them two and three at a time, and all the time praying to whatever gods were listening – please don't be dead, please don't be dead. How would he _ever_ be able to take that sort of news back to Meriones? Or even worse Hercules and Pythagoras? He had seen enough of the three men by now to know just how close they really were. As he scrambled over to the spot where Jason lay prone he was scarcely aware of the small, fearful crowd that had gathered and were muttering quietly to themselves, terrified that another victim of the recent contagion had appeared in their midst. With a sigh of relief he realised that the young man's chest was rising and falling steadily.

A noise from the rapidly gathering crowd made him look up in time to see Kerkyon and an extremely worried looking and white faced Hercules pushing their way through from opposite directions. A groaning sound from by his knees drew his attention back to the young man on the ground. Jason was beginning to come around already although he still looked frightfully pale.

"I'll get a doctor," Kerkyon grunted.

"Bring him to Hercules' house," Gelo answered absently not really taking his eyes off Jason.

As Hercules dropped to his knees on the other side of his young friend, Gelo glanced up at him.

"What happened?" the bulky wrestler demanded.

"He fainted," Gelo murmured quietly, not wanting the crowd to hear what he was saying. "Unfortunately he was at the top of the steps at the time and fell."

If anything Hercules' face paled even further.

"Oh gods," he muttered. "I thought… when I saw him lying here…" he took a deep breath and shuddered. "Haven't we already been through enough?" he demanded quietly. "Pythagoras is not well yet but I thought that at least Jason had managed to escape catching the fever."

"Pythagoras has had the contagion?" Gelo asked with a frown.

"He's on the mend," Hercules waved him off with one hand as he reached out with the other to brush Jason's dark hair back from his forehead. "There's no fever," he murmured as his fingers slid across the young man's face. "Thank the gods! But why would he faint then?"

A soft moan from Jason at the touch of Hercules' hand alerted both men to the fact that he was becoming ever more conscious – was struggling to wake up.

"Jason," Hercules encouraged softly, "open your eyes for me there's a good lad."

Slowly, painfully slowly, the hazel eyes blinked open and peered up at them in some confusion. Before Jason could even attempt to sit up Gelo placed a gently restraining hand on his chest.

"Gently," he admonished, "you've taken quite a tumble."

Neither of the older men failed to notice the pained grimace that graced Jason's face as he rolled carefully from the position he had landed in half on his side onto his back nor the way he let himself rest for a moment against Hercules' knees, eyes closed against a brief resurgence of the dizziness that he had clearly experienced at the top of the wall. Presently though he reopened his eyes and pushed himself up a little until he was resting a bit more comfortably against his big friend's lap.

"Sorry," he murmured with more than a little embarrassment.

"Don't be sorry," Hercules rumbled running a hand through the dark curls, checking Jason's scalp for unseen injuries. "I'm just worried about you. The only time I've ever seen you faint before was when you were ill."

Jason shifted painfully and looked down at his hands guiltily. He had a fairly good idea of why he had passed out and knew that Hercules would be less than happy when he found out the reason.

Hercules noticed the way that Jason refused to meet his eyes. His own eyes narrowed. He knew that expression only too well. Jason was feeling guilty about something and didn't want to admit to what that something was. Much as he wanted to interrogate the young man and find out what the problem was, now was not the time. There would be time enough for Jason to confess to whatever it was he thought he had done wrong when they got home. First things first though he needed to ascertain how badly his friend was hurt – after all he could not believe that the lad would have fallen down the steps from the wall and got away completely unscathed. Although this was Jason so you never could tell. Knowing his friend's propensity for making light of injuries, however, Hercules decided to tackle the problem head on. If the lad was badly hurt it would be better to know the worst now.

"Right," he said gently but firmly. "Where are you hurt? And don't even _think_ of trying to tell me that you're not!"

Jason bit his lip and grimaced again.

"My ribs are a bit sore," he admitted softly, "but my right knee's the worst of it. I think I wrenched it or something when I fell."

Hercules nodded, looking hard at his friend. That didn't sound too bad and at least it seemed Jason was being honest about what hurt, although he knew only too well that the lad could have hidden injuries that even _he_ was unaware of. Still they wouldn't know about that until they had had a healer look him over properly. For now he just needed to get the young man home.

"No pain in your back or neck?" he asked.

"No," Jason stated firmly.

"Good," Hercules rumbled. "I think you can probably try sitting up properly then."

Jason carefully started to push himself up, wincing as his ribcage protested. He felt seriously shaky – probably a mixture of lack of food and shock, he decided – and still more than a little dizzy.

Hercules watched him closely, noting the way the lad's arms trembled as he moved, and positioned himself to catch Jason if he fell back again. Once it was certain that the young man was able to sit up unaided he turned his attention to Gelo who was carefully wrapping Jason's knee as best he could, immobilising the joint as much as possible until it could be looked at properly.

"Can you help me get him home?" Hercules asked seriously.

Gelo half smiled.

"Of course my friend," he said quietly. "Even if I did not want to help I think Meriones would kill me if I did not. As it is I am as anxious as you to get you both back to your home where the doctor can see to Jason's hurts."

Jason looked up sharply.

"I don't need a doctor," he protested. "I'll be alright, really I will."

Hercules frowned.

"Of course you're going to see a doctor," he growled. "After a fall like that I'm surprised you didn't break your neck you young fool. Kerkyon's already gone to fetch a healer and you're going to see him whether you like it or not. I need to make sure you're not hurt worse than we think. Normally Pythagoras could do it but he's just not well enough yet and I don't want him worrying about anything other than getting well."

"But we can't afford it," Jason blurted before he could stop himself, biting his lip as soon as he realised what he had said.

Hercules winced. So Jason had worked out that they were once again short on funds. Hercules had hoped to save his friend from that worry. He still wasn't fully convinced that the lad was completely back to normal and had wanted to spare him as much stress as possible. He really ought to have known better, he supposed. For all that Jason seemed to be more than a bit unobservant or naïve at times, he could, when the occasion demanded it, be worryingly perceptive – usually at the worst possible moments when his friends wished he wasn't.

Gelo looked between the two of them seriously.

"Do not worry yourself about that," he said. "The doctor who Kerkyon has gone to collect owes Meriones several favours and a rather large gambling debt. The man is a drunkard and the worst gambler I have ever met but he is a brilliant physician. I can guarantee that he will offer his services free of charge just for the chance to repay a little of what he owes."

Hercules nodded gratefully. Truthfully he had had no idea how they would have paid for the services of a doctor as he had found no work again that day, but he was not willing to risk Jason's health. As it was though it seemed that his oldest friend was once more coming to the rescue without even being present. He shuddered to think just how much he owed to Meriones.

"Right then," he muttered. "Let's see if we can't get you up on your feet and off home." He was fully prepared to carry his friend if he needed to but realised that Jason's own pride would not allow that without at least trying to do it himself. Not for the first time Hercules found himself cursing his young friend's independent and stubborn nature.

Carefully, with Hercules hovering on one side and Gelo on the other, Jason began to lever himself up from the floor, wincing more deeply and making unconscious little moans of distress as the ache in his ribs increased. As he stood up another wave of dizziness hit him – albeit weaker than before – and he cried out sharply in pain as he tried to put weight on his leg, his right knee buckling slightly in spite of the wrapping that Gelo had put on it, clutching at Hercules for support.

To do him credit the big man didn't utter a word. He simply slung Jason's arm around his shoulders and put his own arm gently around the lad's waist, acting as a sort of human crutch.

The crowd had begun to disappear as they realised there was nothing more to see. At least that would allow them to pass through more easily, Hercules grimly thought, and they weren't too far from home either, thank the gods.

With Gelo supporting Jason on the other side, Hercules turned carefully and slowly began to make the short journey home.

* * *

><p>By the time they had got back home Hercules was beyond worried and frustrated. The short journey through the streets had seemed to take forever and it was only a death glare from Jason whenever he even thought about it that had prevented the big man from picking his younger friend up and simply carrying him home. They certainly would have got there much quicker, Hercules thought with some irritation. As it was he was supporting more than half of Jason's weight by the time they got to the kitchen. The walk upstairs had been particularly hard and Hercules had been sorely tempted to ignore Jason's protests and throw him over his shoulder just to save the lad some pain. He carefully deposited his friend on a bench at the kitchen table, gently reached down to unclasp the cloak from around the young man's shoulders and began to lift the hem of his tunic in preparation for the doctor's arrival. Jason, Hercules noted with some dismay, was shaking – faint tremors that racked his body. It was probably from shock the big man decided, although he was not really all that sure what to do about it. The truth was that he usually left most matters of health and healing to Pythagoras. He himself had never had the interest in or the patience to learn the healing arts and his skills were limited to patching up injuries sustained in the wrestling ring in a rudimentary fashion.<p>

"So what on earth were you doing at the top of the city walls anyway?" Hercules asked. Jason was clearly shaken up and the burly wrestler hoped to distract him somewhat even as he continued to strip away the lad's tunic to see what injuries lay underneath.

"I was running a couple of errands for Egina the milk seller," Jason answered softly, his voice low and pained. "She paid me to deliver a few things and I thought we could use the money." He reached into the waistband of his trousers and withdrew a small money pouch, tossing it on the table where it landed with a clatter of coins.

Hercules let out an explosive breath.

"You were supposed to be staying here and making sure that Pythagoras was alright," he pointed out.

"I know," Jason answered, "but I didn't think I'd be gone all that long and I made sure he was comfortable and had dropped off to sleep before I went." He still felt very weak and shaky and fought the urge to ask his older friend for a hug, telling himself that he was being childish.

Hercules looked at his young companion with a frown. That Jason had not objected to his larger friend essentially beginning to undress him worried Hercules far more than the rapidly swelling knee or the purpling bruises decorating the lad's ribcage and upper body. The bulky wrestler winced at how beaten up his young friend looked. By the looks of things Jason was going to be dreadfully stiff and sore for a few days just from the sheer amount of bruising alone. Frowning to himself the big man crossed to the cupboards and picked up the last wine skin – purchased some weeks ago and saved by Pythagoras for emergencies. Hercules had found it hidden behind some bowls in the cupboard several days earlier at a point where it looked like the young mathematician might die and had sat staring at it for hours, knowing that he needed a drink perhaps more than he had ever done before but equally knowing that if he started to drink it he would not be able to stop. Since then he had rationed it carefully, aware of the fact that they did not have any money to spend on wine and knowing that he had to make it last. Contrary to popular opinion Hercules was not as stupid, as selfish or as insensitive as he sometimes made him himself out to be.

Now though the skin only contained enough wine for one final drink. The big man poured it out carefully so as not to waste a single drop and stood for a moment looking at it almost reverently. He sighed. Much as he would like to consume the contents in one go to calm his still frazzled nerves he thought that Jason probably needed it more than he did. Picking up the cup he crossed over to the table and offered it to his friend.

Jason looked up with a weak smile.

"Thanks," he said, "but I probably shouldn't. Drinking on an empty stomach isn't a good idea."

Hercules frowned.

"I thought you said that you ate earlier," he said suspiciously.

"I did tell you that," Jason said awkwardly, looking everywhere but at his friend. "It was a while ago though so I should probably eat something else before I try drinking alcohol… Besides I'm not really thirsty," he finished lamely.

Hercules opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of a knock at the door which heralded the arrival of Kerkyon with the doctor in tow. Gelo hurried across the room to open it, grateful to have something to do. He had felt like an intruder for the past few minutes – ever since they had arrived really – although he appreciated the fact that neither of his companions had intended that. It was simply that he was an outsider in their home and really had no idea where anything was or how he could help.

The appearance of the physician did not immediately inspire Hercules with confidence. It was most definitely not the same man they had called in at the start of Pythagoras' sickness – a tall, arrogant looking man who had an overinflated opinion of his own abilities and charged overinflated fees as a direct result. He had not really been interested in treating a young man from one of the poorer quarters of the city and had insisted on receiving his consultation fee in advance. The only useful contribution he had really made had been to suggest which tonics they should purchase to treat the young mathematician and had then left, never to return. Hercules did have to admit that his advice over medicines had been unerringly accurate though and for that the big man was grateful.

This doctor, however, appeared to be very different. For a start he swayed on his feet, perhaps still a little drunk from the previous night, and smelled none too clean. He peered up from heavy lidded eyes and his skin had a distinctly unhealthy yellowish tinge to it, as did the whites of his eyes. Gelo had assured Hercules that this man was a brilliant doctor, even if he was a drunk, but the bulky wrestler definitely had his doubts. Still if the man did right by Jason then he would be happy.

"Do you by any chance have any water?" he said in a voice made rusty by years of hard drinking. "My mouth feels as dry as the desert between here and Helios."

Hercules growled slightly and directed the man to a pitcher of water standing on the side. The doctor drank deeply for a few minutes then turned and smiled as reassuringly as he could manage, the worst of his indisposition seemingly gone.

"Right then," he said briskly, "I have been told that a young man of this household suffered a fall earlier and requires my attention. That would be you I suppose," he finished turning towards Jason.

"Yes," Jason answered, "but listen I'm sure I'm alright. I don't really need a doctor or anything."

If anything the seedy looking man seemed amused by his statement.

"Of course not," he murmured. "Since I am already here, however, why don't you let me look you over? Just to ease everyone's minds."

Without waiting for a response he came forwards and placed his fingers under Jason's chin, gently tilting the young man's head this way and that with his other hand on the back of the his neck, and then started to carefully feel up and down the lad's spine. Then he paused.

"I am sorry," he apologised. "I have forgotten my manners. My name is Cinyras and I am a doctor… although I would hope that you already know that otherwise what I am doing is very strange. Forgive my rudeness in not introducing myself properly. My only excuse is that I am very tired. Since the plague which has attacked the city began I have had little sleep – I have not even managed to have a drink in several days."

"You've been treating the victims then?" Hercules rumbled.

"Yes," Cinyras said, continuing his examination. "Many of my patients are very poor and have no other access to medical treatment. I am not a wealthy man and I have a small problem with gambling but it is my duty to help those in need." He sighed. "I am aware, of course, that many of my colleagues in the medical profession do not agree with that sentiment. Perhaps that is why they are rich and I am not." He turned back to Jason once again. "Where did you fall?" he asked.

"What difference does that make?" Hercules groused.

"I need to know if it was a fall from height," the doctor retorted. "Although from the amount of bruising to your upper body I am guessing that it was."

"Yeah," Gelo answered. "He fell down the steps that lead from the top of the city wall."

Cinyras raised an eyebrow in surprise and gently began to palpate Jason's ribcage.

"Sorry," he said, feeling the young man flinch beneath his hand. "This may be moderately unpleasant for you but I need to ascertain what damage you have done."

Jason bit down hard on his lip and tried to keep from crying out, although he was unable to prevent the odd small whimper escaping.

"So how did you come to fall?"

Jason grimaced.

"I don't really remember," he confessed. "I vaguely remember hearing Gelo calling to me and I turned around to speak to him but after that I don't remember anything."

"He fainted," Gelo supplied helpfully. "He was at the top of the steps at the time."

"Fainted?" the doctor murmured. He turned back to Jason. "Follow," he instructed moving one finger from side to side in front of the young man's eyes. "Good. There does not appear to be a head injury." His eyes narrowed and he placed one appraising hand on Jason's forehead while the other felt for a pulse at the wrist, checking the speed and strength of the beat he felt there. "Open your mouth for me."

"Why?" Jason asked.

"Because I need to make sure that you do not have the contagion that has been spreading throughout the city," the doctor explained. "Although you do not have a fever and your heartbeat is normal I wish to be sure."

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes but for once in his life did as he was told. Cinyras smiled. From what little he had seen so far he had no doubt whatsoever that this young man could be extremely wilful when he wanted to be.

"Good," he murmured. "There is no sign of the sickness. Your tongue is uncoated and your throat clear. Aside from the injuries sustained in the fall you would appear to be in remarkably good health. Which leads me to wonder why you would faint," he finished with a frown. "You have not experienced any episodes like this before?"

"No," Jason muttered. "I mean I passed out once from fever when I was ill but that was months ago."

Cinyras nodded thoughtfully.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked.

Jason cast a guilty look at Hercules.

"It's been a while," he admitted.

Immediately the burly wrestler was on high alert.

"How long a while?" he demanded.

Jason shrugged.

"Jason," Hercules growled dangerously.

"How long has it been?" Cinyras pressed gently, knowing from the young man's reaction that the answer was not likely to be good.

"I haven't eaten in nearly four days," Jason admitted quietly, not raising his eyes from the spot on the floor that suddenly seemed to have become absolutely fascinating.

Hercules cursed loudly. He stomped off across the room too angry for words and knowing that he needed time to calm down. Jason bit his lip as his older friend stormed away, knowing that this was unlikely to be the end of the matter and that he was at some point likely to be on the receiving end of one of Hercules' well-meaning but always embarrassing lectures.

Cinyras sighed.

"I think we might all know why you fainted then," he said dryly. "You are lucky that it happened though."

"Why?" Jason couldn't help asking. He ached all over and certainly wasn't feeling very lucky at this precise moment in time.

"Because the mind will always act to try to stop the body from falling," the physician replied. "Without you even realising it your body tenses. If that had happened you could have been much more seriously injured. As it was the fact that you were unconscious and therefore completely floppy worked in your favour." He paused. "I still would not recommend starving yourself to the point of collapse though," he added sternly with one raised eyebrow.

"I didn't exactly intend for it to happen this time," Jason retorted with a wry smile.

"That's good to know," Cinyras said.

"You're not like the other doctor that came here," the young brunette observed.

"Other doctor?"

Jason sighed.

"My friend Pythagoras… he's not actually a doctor but he's a pretty good healer anyway. When the plague started people kept coming to him for help. He tried to help as many of them as he could… stayed up all hours looking after the sick… but in the end…"

"He became ill with the disease himself?" Cinyras guessed.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "Hercules called a doctor in but he only seemed interested in getting paid. About the only thing he did was to tell us that Pythagoras would probably die but that if we wanted to try to cure him we should get this tonic from the apothecary."

Cinyras winced. Too many of his colleagues were like that. He picked up the bottle of medicine from the table, unstoppered it and delicately sniffed, grimacing at the smell.

"Well that would certainly help your friend," he murmured, "but I doubt he finds the taste particularly palatable."

Jason grinned.

"Nah," he admitted. "Apparently it's disgusting… it does seem to be working though… he _is_ getting better."

"No doubt," the doctor said. "I think, however, that I might have something that will make it a little more pleasant." He reached into the leather satchel he had placed upon the table when he had first arrived and withdrew a small bottle. "Mix this in with the tonic in even amounts," he said. "It will make the tonic much more drinkable and the herbs it contains should help your friend's lungs to recover a lot more quickly." He paused. "But now we must see to you."

Reaching into the satchel again he produced several rolls of bandaging. As Hercules re-entered the room, somewhat calmer now, the doctor began to carefully bandage Jason's ribs and to wrap his knee properly.

"You have three cracked ribs and a severely twisted knee," he told Jason, "and by morning you are going to be black and blue from shoulder to ankle. It's nothing that a few day's rest won't fix but you _are_ likely to be _extremely_ _sore_. Now I want you to keep your weight off that knee at least until I have seen you again. Then I may judge how long you will need to keep off it for. Keep it elevated if you can – it should help the swelling to go down – and you must rest those ribs to make sure that you do no more damage to them. Keeping still will help you to heal. Take deep breaths every hour or so. It _will_ _hurt_ but you will be doing your lungs a big favour if you can do it. I'm going to leave some painkilling powders for you to drink dissolved in water now. They _are _likely to make you sleepy but they will help to relieve the worst of the pain… and please don't _try_ to tell me that you're not in pain when any fool could see that you are. I'm also going to leave some painkilling tonics behind. Take a dose whenever you start to feel discomfort. Do _not_ wait until it is unbearable. It is far easier to nip these things in the bud early than to try to control them once they are fully present. I will also leave a salve of hyssop and arnica for the worst of the bruising. It will help. The thing that will help you most though is rest… I cannot stress it enough. I would encourage bed rest for at least the rest of today until you have recovered from the shock somewhat. Look after yourself," he said earnestly, "and I will be back to see you soon."

He stood and patted the young man on the shoulder. Then he gestured for Hercules to follow him as Gelo moved forward smoothly to distract Jason, realising that the doctor wanted to have a quiet word with the burly wrestler.

"You need to make sure that he rests," Cinyras wasted no time in getting to the point. "And you will need to keep an eye on him for a few days. He has been very lucky but a fall of this nature can have serious consequences. I am as sure as I can be that he has no further injuries but if he should appear to be in excessive pain or should develop a fever you must send for me at once. As it is I will return in the morning to check on the boy. I understand that you have another friend in the house who has been ill with the contagion."

"I have," Hercules confirmed.

"Then I will check on him also," Cinyras stated firmly. "I have no doubt that the tonic my esteemed colleague suggested is doing its job but it would be remiss of me not to make sure. As for this young man, you need to make sure that he eats… and soon. Keep it plain and simple though… nothing too rich. After several days without food he will need to line his stomach again and he would be likely to react badly to anything too rich. Keep it light for the first meal and don't try to force him to eat too much in one go… little and often will be the key for the first day or two… just until his stomach is used to containing food again."

Hercules nodded and sighed. These two boys were going to be the death of him he just knew it.

"Thank you," he rumbled genuinely.

The doctor smiled.

"Do not worry," he said comfortingly. "Your young friend is fit, strong and healthy. He will be fine with a few days' rest."

With that he gathered up his bag and left with Gelo and Kerkyon keeping him company. Hercules turned back to Jason with a frown. He was still extremely angry but now was not the time for a lecture. Now he needed to make sure that the young man was made comfortable. With a sigh he walked back over to the table.

Jason looked up at him a little nervously. Hercules' heart clenched slightly. Much as he wanted to scold; to know just _why_ Jason had suddenly decided that starvation was a reasonable option; to make his friend see just how worried and how damned annoyed he was right now; the boy was far too beaten up to withstand even a mildly robust discussion at the moment. Those things could wait.

"Come on Jason," he rumbled. "You heard what the doctor said. Let's get you settled into bed and some of that painkilling stuff down you. No don't try to move on your own. You heard what he said – you need to keep off that knee." With that he slipped in under Jason's shoulder and, placing the lad's arm around his own shoulders, gently hoisted him to his feet.

Hercules didn't fail to notice Jason's sigh of relief as he finally lowered himself onto the bed. The lad was clearly hurting even if he didn't want to admit to it, the big man thought grimly as he moved back across the room to dissolve the powders the doctor had left into water. Job done he collected all the spare blankets that they had and moved back into the alcove that had become Jason's bedroom. Pausing by the pillar near the end of the young man's bed he looked at his friend seriously. Jason was still shirtless and had stretched out as best he could on top of the covers, shifting painfully as he searched for a more comfortable position. A task that Hercules surmised was not all that easy. He cleared his throat meaningfully.

Jason looked up. He hated to be a burden on his friends and the thought that Hercules might have to look after him as well as Pythagoras now almost made him burn with shame. Now that he was lying down his ribs ached and his knee throbbed abominably and every way he moved he seemed to find another bruise or scrape that made it nigh on impossible to find a way of resting comfortably. Somehow, no matter what the doctor had said, he couldn't see himself getting much sleep or any meaningful rest any time soon – everything was just far too painful.

Hercules felt his heart clench again at just how downright miserable his friend looked. It was never easy seeing someone he cared about ill or hurt. It didn't really help matters that Jason somehow managed to look younger than ever like this – less like the young hero he was rapidly turning into and more like the lonely boy he must once have been. The burly wrestler attempted a bright and reassuring smile. How _did_ Pythagoras manage to do this so well? Of course the lad was a born healer whereas Hercules most definitely was not.

"Right," he said cheerfully, "get this down you." He handed Jason the cup he had mixed, helping the young man to sit up without even thinking about it.

"Thanks," Jason muttered, clearly abashed at once again needing help for simple everyday tasks.

"None of that," Hercules admonished. "You'd do the same for me given half a chance. Now lay back down and let me get some of this salve on the bits you can't reach."

Jason rolled onto his front without a murmur, knowing that there was absolutely no point in arguing with Hercules. Besides which he was beginning to stiffen up to the point where even thinking about stretching to reach some of the more painful spots on his back and sides made him shudder. As it was Hercules' calloused hands rubbing the salve oh so gently into his sore skin felt almost good and he began to relax as the painkiller did its job, leaving him more than a little drowsy. Every so often, though, the big man would inevitably press on a place that was more tender and Jason was unable to stop himself from wincing or letting out little whimpers now and then.

"Sorry," Hercules murmured, not for the first time.

"Are you angry at me?" Jason asked sleepily.

"Yes," Hercules answered truthfully, "but now is not the time to talk about it. You need to rest."

"Mmm," Jason responded and rolled back onto his back. He bit his lip in embarrassment. "I might need your help to do the front too," he admitted quietly. "I'm already a bit stiff."

Hercules nodded with a soft smile. It was still a relatively rare thing for Jason to actually ask anyone for help and neither one of his friends ever denied him when he did – knowing just how hard it had been for Jason to accept kindness and caring in the first place. It was a sign of just how much the young man had come to trust them and neither one of them wanted to risk that fragile trust.

Without comment the big man once again set about gently rubbing the salve into his friend's bruises – tending to Jason's hurts as carefully as he could. Once he had finished he sat back and looked at the lad seriously. He would stiffen up even more if he were allowed to get cold, the big man decided, and he was not about to allow anything to increase the boy's pain if he could help it. Looking around he picked up the soft sleeping tunic that hung from the end of the bed. It had been another present from Meriones. Really, Hercules thought, he ought to try to stop the giant from spoiling the boys this much. Apparently his old friend had been dissatisfied by the fact that when Jason had been staying with Meriones he had slept either in the tunic that he wore every day or shirtless. The giant had reasoned that the one was unhygienic and the other might lead to his young friend picking up a chill as the winter progressed so he had simply included sleep shirts for both Jason and Pythagoras in the package that had contained winter tunics for them both. Hercules sighed. He hadn't for a moment accepted Meriones' excuse that these were samples of Talos' wares that he could not send back and could not sell but could not think of a single reason not to accept the giant's kindness – especially as both his boys had seemed so pleased.

He turned back to Jason with the tunic in his hands.

"Come on," he said softly. "You'll get cold lying on top of the bed like that. Get this top on and get under the covers. You'll be a lot more comfortable if you do."

He almost laughed at Jason's sceptical look. It appeared that as the initial shock was beginning to wear off Jason's usual spark was beginning to come back. Still the lad did as he was told. He slowly and carefully pulled the tunic on and painfully wriggled until Hercules could pull the bedclothes out from under his legs. He was breathing as heavily as his cracked ribs would allow and sweat dotted his forehead, the burly wrestler noted. Yes, the sooner he could get Jason settled and comfortable the better.

"Lift your knee for me," he instructed.

Jason looked momentarily confused but still complied without a murmur. Hercules smiled softly and gently slipped the spare folded blankets he had brought under the injured limb, elevating it gently. He was rewarded by a soft sigh from his friend indicating that Jason was for the moment as comfortable as he could be. With a gentleness that few outside the household had ever seen he pulled the covers up over the young man and smoothed them out.

Despite Jason's earlier mental predictions that he would not be able to rest properly and certainly would not sleep, a lassitude crept rapidly over him, encouraged by the painkiller he had taken and by the warmth and comfort of his own bed, and his hazel eyes began to drift closed. Watched by his older friend his breathing evened out into the soft rhythms of sleep and the lines of pain etched onto his face smoothed themselves away.

Hercules smiled and slipped out. Now he could check on his other young friend – could make sure that the commotion had not disturbed the young mathematician – and could use the money that Jason had earned and abandoned on the kitchen table to purchase some food from the agora. The smile dropped from his face and he frowned. As soon as Jason was awake and had some proper food inside him they would be having a very long and probably stern chat about lying to his friends and looking after himself. Already planning the points that he wanted to make, Hercules set about the tasks he had imposed upon himself.

* * *

><p>By the time Jason woke up properly the morning sun was riding high in the sky. He couldn't believe that he had actually managed to sleep for the best part of the afternoon, evening and night the day before – all barring one brief period when he had woken for long enough to sleepily consume the small bowl of bread and milk that Hercules had thrust at him and to take a dose of the painkilling tonic that the big man had insisted upon. Then he had been out like a light again.<p>

Now for a few moments after waking he lay looking at the ceiling in some confusion trying to work out why he was still in bed so long after sunrise. Then the events of the previous day returned in full force along with all the aches and pains as his battered body protested its recent treatment. Oh Lord he was so stiff and so sore that even _thinking_ about moving was painful. For a brief moment he actually considered calling out to Hercules to ask his large friend to bring him some more of that tonic. He was certain that Hercules would. Then he noticed how suspiciously quiet the house was. Hercules must be out then – the burly wrestler was not known for his ability to move quietly and always made some sort of noise when he was at home. Jason sighed. Right then, he would have to get up and get his own painkillers – no matter how unpleasant that might be.

Easing himself as carefully as he could to the edge of the bed he paused for a few minutes, gasping as his damaged ribs grated painfully. Once the stars that briefly danced across his eyes faded and the pain receded to an almost bearable level he gingerly swung his legs over the side. The knee was going to be a problem, he almost immediately decided. It was too swollen and sore to bend and he wasn't all that sure that it would actually take his weight. Still he had to try. It quickly became apparent that knowing that something was likely to be painful and actually experiencing it were two different things – as he discovered when he stood up. The startled yelp that he couldn't help but give was much louder than he had intended it to be as a sharp stabbing feeling came up through his leg. You've had worse, he told himself sternly, you've definitely been in a worse state than this, so stop complaining and get on with it.

"Is everything alright?" a weak voice came from Pythagoras' room. Clearly the yelp that Jason had given had been even louder than he had thought and had disturbed the mathematician's rest.

Jason swore quietly to himself. The last thing Pythagoras needed right now was to be worrying about _him_.

"Everything's fine," he answered, aware of how strained his voice sounded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Jason answered. "I just banged my knee." It was not _precisely_ a lie, he told himself. After all he really had hurt his knee – he was just avoiding worrying Pythagoras by saying how at the moment.

Once he realised that yes his leg was horribly painful, the knee itself throbbing constantly, but would hold his weight if he were careful, he started to cross the room over towards the kitchen table. He knew of course that what he was doing was in direct contravention of the doctor's orders and was probably not a particularly good idea but the need for something to take the edge off the pain was overriding all other thought.

Sitting down to take the tonic and to gulp down a large cup of water afterwards was a distinct relief. Then Jason noticed the bottle of medicine on the table that Pythagoras had been taking. The bottle was still full. Pythagoras should have had a dose this morning but clearly Hercules had gone out and had forgotten it. Jason sighed softly. Much as he would like to be getting back to bed (and he really _would_ like to be following doctor's orders and resting his aching body as much as he could) he could not in good conscience let Pythagoras go without his own tonic. The young genius was so much better than he had been but was still unwell enough that both his friends feared a relapse.

Carefully measuring out a dose, Jason mixed the tonic with the one that Cinyras had left yesterday in a cup and then levered himself up from the table. Just a little longer and then he could rest again, he promised himself. Moving slowly and limping heavily he made his way to Pythagoras' room, drawing back the curtain and making his way over to the bed with his smile plastered in place.

Apparently Pythagoras was not fooled. He took one look at Jason and pushed himself upright, his blue eyes wide and concerned.

"What happened?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Jason responded as innocently as he could manage.

Pythagoras favoured him with an incredulous look.

"You are hurt," he stated flatly.

Jason sighed.

"I fell," he answered shortly. "It's really not that bad."

Pythagoras glared.

"Come here and let me see," he all but demanded.

"I'm fine," Jason protested, "and you need to take your medicine." He sat down on the edge of the bed just beyond Pythagoras' reach and leant forwards to put the cup down on the small stool that they had set up as a bedside table, willing his face not to register the pain that stretching caused as his ribs grated again.

Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.

"I'll drink that if you let me take a look at you," he countered.

Jason stared. It was not like Pythagoras to try to be so devious although he supposed he should have known that the young genius would always be stubborn where the health and welfare of his friends was concerned.

"I saw a doctor yesterday," he admitted quietly. "Hercules insisted."

"And what did he say?" Pythagoras asked, still sounding worried.

"He said that I'd be fine in a few days," Jason answered. He looked earnestly at the mathematician. "I really will be alright."

Pythagoras looked long and hard at him. He really would prefer to examine Jason himself, knowing that in all likelihood his friend was being somewhat economical with the truth. Until he was strong enough to insist, however, the most he could do was try to wear Jason down until he acquiesced to the mathematician's requests – which undoubtedly he _would_ do sooner or later. Perhaps for now though a tactical withdrawal would be for the best. Far better to quietly badger Jason throughout the day until he gave in, than to push too hard now and lose the opportunity to check that his friend was not seriously harmed altogether. He laid back against the pillows and forced a smile.

"Perhaps we could talk for a while," he suggested, "or play a game of Tilia or Knucklebones. I find that I am growing tired of lying here looking at the ceiling all the time and I cannot yet seem to focus upon my work."

Jason tried not to wince. He had been hoping to get back to bed as soon as Pythagoras' medicine was delivered but it seemed that his friend had other ideas. Given how ill the young genius had been Jason didn't have the heart to turn him down. He tried to settle himself a little more comfortably on the edge of the bed, painfully aware of how much he was hurting right now.

"Of course," he said. "What would you like to talk about?"

Pythagoras smiled shyly.

"I thought perhaps we could pass the time by telling stories," he murmured.

Jason smiled lightly.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

The young mathematician was deep into the tale of the origins of the gods when a loud voice growled from the doorway.

"What in the name of the gods do you think you're doing?"

Jason inwardly cringed. He had hoped to be able to get back to bed before his other friend came home. It appeared that he had not been so lucky. If he could have he would have put off the conversation that was inevitably going to happen right now indefinitely and certainly would have avoided having it in front of his still unwell younger friend.

"Hello Hercules," he said as inoffensively as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews. For those of you that I haven't got around to responding to personally yet I promise I will... and to jmp and gotanygrapes thank you for the lovely reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I'm only sorry I can't message you personally.

Ok I feel the need to put in a little bit of medical history here. The ancient Greeks do appear to have known about tendons and ligaments and their purpose (although it remains unlikely that they knew how to fix them if they were torn as they do not appear to have practised that type of surgery) but they lumped everything under the heading of "nerves" - so that's what I've done too.

I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Please let me know if you do!

* * *

><p>"Hello Hercules?" The burly wrestler spluttered incredulously. "<em>Hello Hercules<em>?"

He began to pace about the room muttering curse words.

"I asked you a question," he said rounding on the bed. "What in the name of the gods do you think you're doing?"

Pythagoras stared at his clearly enraged friend in some confusion.

"I am resting as I was told. As much as I would like to I simply do not have the energy to get out of bed yet," he said softly. "I was not sleepy, however, and was becoming bored so I am afraid that I asked Jason to keep me company for a while."

"Not you!" Hercules exclaimed. "_Him_!" He turned the full force of his glare on Jason.

"I do not understand," Pythagoras confessed.

"No but _he_ does, don't you?" Hercules growled.

Jason shifted uncomfortably. He ached miserably and his knee was a throbbing ball of fire. Being truthful he was aware that he probably deserved the scolding that he was likely to get but couldn't Hercules at least wait until he was lying down and vaguely comfortable again? Then at least he might be able to pay attention to the inevitable lecture – although perhaps that was not such a good thing.

"What are you talking about?" Pythagoras asked, his tone becoming sharper.

Jason grimaced. The small bowl of bread and milk he had consumed the night before had not really been enough to make up for several days without food and he was beginning to feel decidedly shaky and light headed again. His head had started to pound somewhere in the last few minutes and he raised his hand to his temple and rubbed without really being aware of what he was doing.

Hercules looked at his young friend crossly. Any fool could see that Jason was in pain and needed to be resting. Angry as he was (and he fully intended to make the young man aware of just how angry he was _very _soon) he had no wish to increase the lad's discomfort.

"Wait there," he instructed, not quite liking how pale Jason had suddenly become.

As Hercules hurried off Pythagoras looked long and hard at Jason. It was clear that something was wrong and the young mathematician intended to find out just what that something was. He sat up cautiously, frowning at the weakness he felt in his own body, and carefully scooted down the bed until he was sitting alongside Jason, his legs dangling over the side.

"What is wrong my friend?" he asked gently, slipping one thin arm around Jason's waist, worried by how pale his friend was becoming as his face slowly drained of colour.

"I'm just a bit dizzy," Jason admitted. "I'll be alright in a minute."

Pythagoras frowned. He had known Jason for long enough to know that his friend was most definitely not prone to dizzy spells. Something more was going on here that he didn't know about. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Hercules returning with the chair from the corner of his own bedroom (the only one that they possessed that actually had a back and arms and was usually hidden under a pile of Hercules' things), several blankets and the pillow from the burly wrestler's bed. He glowered at his two younger companions and dumped the chair down at the foot of the bed with an audible bang.

"You," he said pointing at Pythagoras, "get back into bed… and you," he added with a glare at Jason, "sit yourself down in this chair."

Jason looked up at him wide eyed as Pythagoras hurried to comply with his clearly irate old friend.

"And you can stop doing that thing with your eyes too," Hercules growled.

"What thing with my eyes?" Jason looked confused.

"That thing that you do where you make your eyes go all wide and innocent looking and end up looking like a puppy that's just been kicked."

Jason looked even more confused than ever.

"I don't do that," he protested.

"Yes you do," murmured Pythagoras, "although I suspect that you are largely unaware of it most of the time."

Jason bit his lip and looked awkward.

"Do I really do that?" he asked. "Sorry."

At another pointed look from Hercules he shuffled down to the end of the bed and pushed himself upright, keeping as much weight off his knee as possible and pivoting on his good leg until he was in a position to lower himself into the chair. He had to admit that he was a lot more comfortable with the back of the chair supporting him than he had been sitting on the side of the bed. He looked up to see Hercules staring at him with a mixture of rage and an odd satisfaction and inwardly winced, suddenly sure that this lecture was going to be particularly memorable.

Hercules waited for a moment to ensure that Jason had managed to get himself into the chair without too much trouble and then swooped in on his younger friend. Before the young man knew what was going on – and certainly before he could even think of protesting – Hercules had the pillow behind his back and had lifted his injured leg to rest full length on the end of the bed, blankets supporting his knee. Jason sighed, still aching a bit too much to be truly comfortable but resting much more easily than he had been. Hercules nodded.

Jason opened his mouth to say something. Before he could speak Hercules levelled a trembling finger at him.

"Not a word," the big man admonished. "Whatever it is you were about to say just don't. _We_ are going to have a very serious chat but _you_ are going to get some food inside you first." He turned to Pythagoras. "And that means you too," he said.

"Me?" Pythagoras said incredulously. "What have I done?"

"You need to eat too," Hercules stated. "If you want to regain your strength you need to build yourself up."

With one final stern look at the boys he bustled out of the room. For a while the two friends sat in awkward silence listening to the clatters and bangs from the kitchen which indicated that Hercules was somewhat aggressively preparing lunch.

"Was there something you wanted to tell me?" Pythagoras asked almost neutrally.

Jason looked down at the ground.

"Not really," he admitted, "but I don't think I've got all that much choice in the matter."

"How did you get hurt?" the young genius queried.

Jason sighed.

"I really did fall," he said.

Pythagoras looked at him sceptically.

"I hardly think you would be in this much pain from a simple fall," he said crisply.

"Actually he did fall," Hercules growled coming back into the room with two bowls in his hands. "What he hasn't told you though is that it was from the top of the steps that lead down from the city wall."

Pythagoras' eyes grew wide and he gasped slightly, sitting up suddenly as though he was going to come to the end of the bed to check on Jason immediately.

"Lie back down and eat this," Hercules admonished, handing one of the bowls to the young genius. He turned back to Jason with an eyebrow raised. "You. Eat," he instructed firmly, thrusting the second bowl at the young man before returning to the kitchen to fetch his own portion.

Jason had to admit that the broth that the bowl contained was surprisingly good. Every spoonful seemed to put a little more strength into him as the lingering weakness and dizziness faded. Although the bowl was only half full to begin with he soon found himself satisfied and relaxing back in the chair, more comfortable than he had felt at any time since waking this morning, with the now empty dish discarded at his side.

"Good?" Hercules asked, still slurping noisily. He was pleased to see the colour rapidly returning to his young friend's face – a pale Jason was never a good sign.

"Yeah," Jason answered.

"It was from your friend the milk seller," Hercules explained. "Apparently she heard what happened and felt a little guilty. I was passing her stall earlier and she all but leapt out at me with a pot in her hands. Said that she thought you needed feeding," he finished with an eyebrow raised.

Jason frowned slightly and blushed. Why did everyone around him seem to think he needed feeding up? It wasn't as if he was that thin – certainly nowhere near as skinny as Pythagoras.

"She didn't need to do that," he muttered.

"She wanted to," Hercules answered simply. He looked pointedly at Jason's empty bowl. "Did you want some more?"

"No thanks," Jason responded. "I'm pretty full."

Hercules frowned darkly. It always astonished him how little food filled Jason up, and given that the lad had gone for days without eating the big man certainly felt that he could have eaten a bit more. He took the doctor's advice though and decided not to nag, reasoning that it would be far easier to persuade Jason to eat another small amount in a little while rather than trying to force him to eat a lot now and encountering the lad's stubbornness.

"Right then," he said deceptively calmly, his anger still bubbling below the surface, "we need to talk."

Jason gulped. This was one conversation he was not looking forward to.

"Let's start with your most recent piece of foolishness," Hercules continued, his voice becoming testier with every word. "What in the name of the gods are you doing out of bed when it's clear to everyone with eyes that you're in pain and ought to be resting?"

Jason took as deep a breath as his cracked ribs would allow, wincing noticeably at the resultant stab of pain. That wince was not lost on either one of his friends; one of whom was regarding him with increasingly worried blue eyes and the other one with a distinct look of irritation mixed in with the concern.

"I didn't really mean to be out of bed," Jason admitted.

"Oh so you _accidentally_ go up, walked all the way across the kitchen and came in here," Hercules grumbled sarcastically.

"Yes. No," Jason said. "Not exactly." He sighed. "I woke up this morning and everything was aching so much and I thought I probably needed to take another dose of that tonic. You know… just to take the edge off. Only it was in the kitchen. I was going to call out and ask you to get me some… I thought you wouldn't mind too much… but then I noticed how quiet the house was and figured that you were out. I know I should have waited until you got back but I didn't know how long that would be and all I could think about was how much I was hurting and I _really_ needed to take that painkiller… so I thought I could just about make it to the table and then get straight back to bed."

"Never mind the fact that you weren't supposed to be putting any weight at all on that knee," Hercules muttered, "or that you were told to rest those ribs. You knew that you ought to be keeping still… the doctor may not have actually said that you needed bed rest beyond yesterday but he _did_ tell you that you shouldn't be moving around."

In actual fact the burly wrestler was kicking himself. He had meant to leave that bottle of medicine on a stool next to Jason when he left the house so that the young man could help himself if he woke up while Hercules was out, but in his hurry this morning he had forgotten. He shuddered at the thought of his friend waking up in pain and not being able to get to the tonic that he needed to provide relief quickly. Of course that didn't explain why the lad was in Pythagoras' room now instead of being safely tucked up in bed where he belonged.

"I know," Jason admitted. "But I wasn't really thinking all that clearly. All I could focus on was getting something to stop me aching so much. I might have yelped a bit louder than I intended to when I got up though… I wasn't really expecting to feel like someone was stabbing my leg when I stood up."

"Yes you did," Pythagoras answered softly. "You told me you had banged your knee." The accusation that Jason had lied to him hung unspoken in the air.

"I know," Jason answered a little guiltily, "but I didn't want you to worry. Besides, I _had_ banged my knee – sort of – I just didn't say how or when," he added defensively.

Hercules motioned for him to continue with a curt wave of his hand.

Jason took another semi-deep breath.

"Anyway I managed to make it to the table and took the tonic and I was about to go back to bed… I promise I was… when I saw that Pythagoras hadn't had his medicine this morning and I didn't want him to go without… I didn't want him to get sick again… so I thought I could bring it in here and then get back to rest. Only he realised I was hurt and wanted to know what had happened. So I told him I'd fallen and that you'd made me see a doctor and that I'd be fine in a few days. All of which are true!"

"Yes they are," Hercules rumbled, "although it seems to me that you left out some fairly important things when you were telling him – just like you are now." He gave Jason an extremely hard look. "And it still doesn't explain why you're not back in bed where you belong now."

"That might be my fault," Pythagoras admitted quietly. "I was so bored and lonely that I asked Jason to stay and keep me company. I don't think he liked to say no."

"Couldn't say no without explaining why, you mean," Hercules groused.

"No," Jason objected hotly. "It wasn't like that. I really did want to be lying down but Pythagoras asks for so little and he's been so ill…" he trailed off.

Hercules sighed. He did not doubt Jason's good intentions – the lad had a big heart – and he hadn't intended to imply that his reasons for staying with his friend had been any less than honourable. The events of the last two days were catching up with him, however, and making him sharper than he intended to be.

"How badly are you injured?" Pythagoras' softly spoken words – his tone filled with worry – brought the big man back to the present.

Jason, true to form, tried to make light of things – much to Hercules' annoyance.

"I'm fine," he muttered, despite all evidence to the contrary.

Both his friends looked at him incredulously: Pythagoras because he could clearly see that Jason was _not_ fine and Hercules because he knew exactly how much Jason was hurt and hurting and couldn't quite believe that the lad would try to hide it. His annoyance built again.

"I'm a little banged up is all," Jason tried, having seen their looks.

Hercules snorted loudly.

"I'm a bit stiff and sore," Jason ventured. "It's mainly just bruising."

"Jason you have clearly injured your leg," Pythagoras pointed out firmly. "You cannot walk properly on it and from the way Hercules has propped it up I would say that it is most definitely more than "just bruising", and the way you are wincing whenever you breathe deeply indicates that there is damage to your ribs."

"It really is nothing that a few days rest won't fix," Jason muttered, even now trying to avoid worrying his still unwell friend.

Pythagoras looked at Hercules in exasperation, fed up of Jason's evasions. He was the healer of the family for goodness sake. He needed to know the truth.

"Three cracked ribs, a severely twisted knee and more scrapes and bruises than I would like to count," Hercules said promptly, having no qualms at all about dropping his dark haired friend in it. "The doctor said that by this morning he would be black and blue from shoulder to ankle and extremely sore. I'm actually surprised he can move at all."

He returned Jason's glare with a level look. While he might have originally intended to keep the ailing Pythagoras out of his discussion with Jason – reasoning that the mathematician did not need the stress – it was Jason that had brought him into it by coming in here rather than doing as he was told, and Hercules had no intention of lying to the young blonde.

Jason winced slightly, seeing Pythagoras' eyes take fire. He viewed both his friends' health and well-being as his domain and would not take well to being kept in the dark.

"If your knee is as bad as I suspect then you should not even have attempted to stand on it," Pythagoras said coldly.

"Sorry," Jason said, "but it really isn't all that bad… just a bit sore."

Pythagoras' expression did not change.

"Let me see then," he demanded. "You would not before but I must insist now."

Hercules frowned.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he began.

"For goodness sake Hercules," Pythagoras snapped crossly. "I will not get out of bed. I am merely going to sit at the bottom of the bed rather than the top. It will do me no harm. Besides," he added more softly, "I will only worry if I do not do this."

Hercules held his hands up defensively. Pythagoras immediately felt guilty. He was not really angry with his large friend. Jason on the other hand was definitely another story. He was cross at his younger friend for not taking better care of himself and not following doctor's orders by resting when he was told, and cross at himself for being in a position where Jason had felt that he had to put himself through pain to make sure that Pythagoras was alright. While he logically knew that he couldn't help being ill he still felt guilty for the trouble he believed he was putting his friends to.

"Look," Jason started, "if I promise to go back to bed and not move until I'm told I can do you think we could forgo the lecture and the examination right now?"

Hercules glared.

"Oh I'm just getting started," he rumbled dangerously.

"That's what I was afraid of," Jason muttered, almost inaudibly.

"What did you say?" Hercules hissed icily.

Jason's eyes went wider than either of his friends had ever seen. He gulped.

"Erm… I said that's good," he tried, unconvincingly.

Pythagoras very nearly face-palmed. Someone really ought to tell Jason, he thought, that when you have dug yourself into a hole the best thing to do is stop digging and try to find your way out. He _almost_ felt sorry for his friend.

Hercules turned so red that he was almost purple. What worried Pythagoras more was the prominent vein that seemed to be popping out at his temple, pulsing in time to his heartbeat. Without even thinking about it he reached out and placed a calming hand on his old friend's arm. In spite of his apparent rage Hercules turned and patted Pythagoras' hand reassuringly, letting the mathematician know that he was alright.

"I have one question for you," he growled at Jason. "At what point in time did you think it became alright for you to starve yourself until you passed out?"

"What did you say?" Pythagoras asked, aghast.

"This idiot decided not to eat for nearly four days," Hercules groused, not taking his eyes off Jason. "He passed out at the top of the steps from the city wall and ended up falling down them. It was a miracle he wasn't killed."

Pythagoras stared at Jason, the fire burning even brighter in his eyes.

Jason cringed. It was never a good thing when Pythagoras became angry and was always impressive.

"I didn't actually intend to pass out," he said defensively.

"And that makes it alright does it?" Hercules roared. "The fact that you didn't mean to faint makes starving yourself acceptable!" The volume that he was shouting at could probably have been heard on the other side of the city.

"No," Jason snapped back, "it doesn't make it alright but I had no other choice."

"No other choice?" Hercules spluttered. "Of course you had another choice. You could have chosen to eat."

"And how long do you think our food would have lasted if I had?" Jason spat, suddenly angry. He was hurting and tired and didn't need this damn it.

Pythagoras' eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?" he asked deceptively calmly.

"I mean that the food would have run out days ago if I hadn't rationed it," Jason answered.

"And your way of rationing it was to go without," Pythagoras replied sharply. "And you didn't think to tell anyone. Why on earth would you think that that was alright? We could all have had a little less with no real harm coming to anyone."

"_Really_," Jason responded sarcastically. "You were hardly eating enough to keep a bird alive. You've told me often enough in the past that when you've been ill you need to eat to regain strength. I wasn't about to see you get worse again because we couldn't afford food… And Hercules was going out looking for work all day every day. He was coming home tired and cold and hungry. He needed to eat more than I did." He dropped his head down into his hand, feeling drained.

Pythagoras glared at him; worry warring with anger in his blue eyes. Jason had done some stupid things in the past but this one had to take the prize, he thought. How could he not see he mattered as much as any one of them? It was the lack of self-worth thing once again the mathematician decided. He frowned. He had thought that they had at least begun to vanquish that particular demon yet here it was rearing its ugly little head once again.

"That was something we should have discussed as a family," he pointed out, his tone still a little cold but much more gentle than before. "And you lied to me. You let me believe that everything was fine. When I asked whether you had eaten you implied that you had."

"I didn't actually lie," Jason argued. "I just didn't tell you the whole truth."

"You said that you'd eaten earlier when I asked you," Hercules snapped. "From where I'm standing that pretty much sounds like a lie."

"I _had_ eaten earlier. I just never said _how much_ earlier."

"You knew that I would think you meant earlier in the day." Hercules' voice grew louder again. "You knew that what you were implying wasn't the truth. A lie is a lie Jason. Whether it's directly told or just by choosing which bits of the truth to tell. You still stood there and lied by implication to us both." He huffed crossly. "I never thought you would ever do that. I never thought you would ever lie to us."

Jason cringed. Using that logic almost everything he had told his friends about where he came from was a lie. His guts twisted. If they were this angry now, how would they be when they realised he hadn't been telling them the truth for months?

"After all we have been through I had thought we were close enough to tell each other anything," Pythagoras murmured, making Jason feel even worse. "This was something we should all have known about."

"A bit like the fact that we were running out of money you mean?" Jason answered sharply with a hard look at Hercules.

"That was completely different," the big man argued. "I didn't want you to worry."

Jason barked a short incredulous laugh.

"How is it any different?" he demanded. "You kept the fact that we were running out of money to yourself. I had to find out by accident. If I'd known earlier I could have been looking for work too and then we'd never have ended up in this position."

"So it's my fault then?" Hercules rumbled dangerously.

"That's not what I'm saying," Jason snapped. He ran a weary hand through his dark curls, very much aware of just how much he'd like to be lying down right now. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because I wanted to protect you," Hercules shouted.

"I don't need protecting," Jason said from between clenched teeth. "For two months now you've both been tiptoeing around me like I'm fragile; like I'm made of glass." He huffed out a heavy breath, not missing the guilty look that passed between his two friends. "I'm not going to fall apart at the first sign of trouble. I'm not delicate."

"You weren't yourself for a while," Pythagoras murmured.

"I know," Jason answered. "I had a breakdown… but I am a lot better now… and the only way I'll ever be completely better is if the people around me stop treating me like I'm different; stop trying to "protect" me. I can look after myself and I need you both to know that."

"Well clearly you can't look after yourself properly," Hercules pointed out forcefully. "If you could then you wouldn't have fainted from near starvation."

Jason shook his head.

"It wasn't like that and you know it," he insisted. "Do you really think I like feeling so hungry that it hurts? Do you really think I would _choose_ to starve? We needed to save the little money we had for medicine and you both needed the food more than I did."

Hercules felt his anger growing hotter at every word Jason uttered. The young man's stubborn and headstrong nature was almost legendary amongst the three of them but Hercules wasn't sure it had ever been this bad before. Could Jason really not see that what he had done was wrong?

"You shouldn't have wasted money on medicine," Pythagoras murmured guiltily. "I would have been alright."

Jason winced. The last thing he had wanted to do was upset Pythagoras. He dropped his head to avoid the accusatory glare that Hercules was levelling in his direction. Now look what you've done, the big man's eyes seemed to say.

"It wasn't a waste," Jason insisted. "We need you to get better. Who else would patch me up the next time I go running off into trouble?"

His attempt at humour fell more than a little flat. Pythagoras still looked slightly stricken. Jason frowned and leaned forward, grunting a little at the pull on his chest, to grab the mathematician's hand.

"Listen, it's not your fault. You couldn't help being sick. All either Hercules or I have wanted is for you to be better," he glanced at the burly wrestler in time to see him nod emphatically in agreement. "Maybe Hercules should have told me that the money was running out and maybe I should have told him I was making the food last by skipping the odd meal here and there."

"Try all of them," Hercules interjected crossly.

"Ok," Jason agreed, "all of them. It's not the smartest thing I've ever done and right now I really wish I hadn't… I certainly wouldn't want to do it again… falling down those stairs _hurt_… But it happened. Right at this moment I'm hurting more than I'd like to admit, you're not well yet and Hercules is so angry I think he might actually burst a blood vessel, but we'll get through it. Whatever happens we're a team."

Pythagoras nodded seriously.

"I know," he admitted. "Will you let me make sure that you are really alright though?"

"Well I think the doctor's supposed to be coming back in a bit," Jason began.

"Yes he is," Hercules said. "He wanted to check you both over."

"It is an unnecessary expense on my part," Pythagoras fretted. "I am feeling much stronger today. I am sure that the doctor need not trouble himself with me."

"Don't worry," Hercules rumbled. "Apparently he owes Meriones some rather large favours so he's doing this for free. Besides," he added, "we have a little money left over from the errands that Jason ran yesterday – before he decided to roll down the stairs – and I found a job this morning. That's why I was gone so long."

"A job?" Jason asked.

"Doing what?" Pythagoras said suspiciously at the same time.

"Just guarding some crates for one of the merchant's in the agora," Hercules said. "It'll only be for a week or so and only at night. Apparently the last guard he had stole from him and he was a little wary of employing anyone else. Fortunately my natural honesty and basic reliability shone through." He placed one hand self-righteously over his chest.

The two boys looked at him open mouthed for a moment and then, catching each other's eyes, burst out laughing. Their laughter trailed off after a few moments as Pythagoras gasped for breath, coughing wetly, and Jason clutched at his ribs. Both of them were still smiling in amusement, however, and under the circumstances Hercules found he had no real objection to being the butt of the joke once more. He looked at the two young men speculatively.

"Shouldn't you have drunk that tonic by now?" He asked Pythagoras.

The blonde genius looked down at the cup still sitting on the stool alongside his bed and blushed.

"I forgot," he admitted reaching out to take it. The taste was much more pleasant than it had been every other time he had drunk it and he stared into space, mind busily identifying the extra herbs that had been used to change the flavour so radically.

"And you look like you could do with some more of that salve and a dose of that painkilling tonic," Hercules added looking at Jason.

"It's not that long since I had some," Jason answered. "Although it really doesn't seem to have helped all that much."

"Probably because you went too long between doses," Pythagoras stated, returning to the present. "Perhaps if I could look at the bottle I could work out if it would be safe for you to take some extra."

Hercules nodded before Jason could respond and marched purposefully into the kitchen to fetch both the tonic and the salve. Returning in short order, he deposited the bottle with Pythagoras and turned with the jar in his hands towards Jason.

"Tunic off," he instructed.

Jason pulled a face.

"I'm not sure I can without help," he admitted.

Hercules nodded again. He had expected as much. Given how stiff and sore he rather suspected Jason was, he was actually amazed that the lad could move at all. Putting the salve down on the end of the bed the burly wrestler moved towards his young friend and gently started to help Jason pull his tunic off over his head. Behind him he heard Pythagoras give a horrified gasp as their other friend's torso was revealed and, though he knew what to expect, found that he could not help giving a hiss of sympathy himself.

There didn't seem to be a single inch of Jason's upper body that wasn't scraped or bruised. In some places the bruising was so dark that it looked black. The worst, Hercules knew, was hidden by the tight bandages wrapped around the lad's chest, stark white against the marked skin. Slowly and gently Hercules started to spread the salve across his friend's shoulders and down his back, touching as lightly as he could to avoid causing further discomfort. He felt rather than saw Pythagoras scramble to the bottom of the bed behind him to get a better look, and knew without turning around that the young mathematician's blue eyes would be wide and filled with horrified sympathy.

In spite of Hercules' gentle handling Jason still arched away from him, moaning in pain as his big friend's hands ghosted over the places on his body that were the most tender. Murmuring apologies the burly wrestler continued his work, his words a constant soft flow of reassurance, hoping that in spite of the current pain his friend would gain some relief from his actions. He turned and cast a glance at Pythagoras, his worry bleeding through in his eyes.

Pythagoras returned his gaze steadily and smiled weakly in reassurance, trying to let Hercules know that he was doing the right thing no matter how much discomfort Jason seemed to be in right now. The young genius carefully unstoppered the bottle Hercules had handed him and took a long sniff. He relaxed slightly as he smelt the contents and correctly identified the herbs. It appeared that this doctor did indeed know what he was doing. He was positive that it would not harm Jason to take an extra dose. Casting about himself, Pythagoras retrieved the cup used for his own medicine and wiped it out carefully with the corner of a clean blanket before carefully measuring out some of the painkilling tonic. He glanced at Jason and took in the shallow, pained breathing and the little lines around the eyes that indicated the fact that his friend was suffering and topped the cup up with some extra tonic. If he could get on top of whatever pain his friend was feeling, he reasoned, things would be much easier.

"Here," he said holding out the cup, "drink this."

Jason took the cup gratefully and attempted a grin – although it had to be said that the attempt was half-hearted at best.

"Thanks," he muttered, trusting that Pythagoras knew what he was doing in giving him the extra tonic.

As the combination of salve and tonic kicked in Pythagoras was gratified to see the tension begin to leave Jason's shoulders as he relaxed back into the chair, squirming slightly in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

"Better?" the young blonde asked.

"Much," Jason admitted.

"Good," Pythagoras said. From what he had seen Jason's injuries were not too serious although they were undoubtedly painful. A fact for which the mathematician was incredibly grateful. He would really have liked to take a look at his friend's knee as well but perhaps it would be better to wait until the doctor arrived. With a sigh he realised just how tired the conversation and everything it had entailed had made him. Hating the weakness he felt in his own body he crawled back up to the top of the bed and slid back under the covers, allowing his eyes to close for a moment as his head dropped back onto the pillows. Opening his eyes again he found Jason watching him anxiously and hurried to reassure his friend.

"I'm sorry," Jason said guiltily, "you should be resting not dealing with me."

"Do not worry," Pythagoras answered. "I am fine. I am a little tired that is all. Every day I feel a little better."

Jason turned to Hercules, who was leaning against the door frame watching his two companions thoughtfully.

"Are we good now?" he asked. "I mean I know I probably deserved it… but is the lecture over?"

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"It shouldn't be," he rumbled, "but you're the one paying for your own foolishness and nothing I can say can change that… so, yes, I suppose it is all over."

Jason relaxed even more and smiled at his older friend.

"I still think you need to learn to take better care of yourself though," Hercules continued. "There are times when I could swear that you have a death wish."

"I don't," protested Jason.

"I know," answered Hercules. "It just seems that way at times." He looked hard at the young man with one eyebrow raised. "I think we'd better look at getting your tunic back on," he added firmly. "The day is not warm and you could do with being wrapped up a bit. You'll be more sore if you get cold."

Jason grimaced.

"Couldn't I just leave it off for now?" he asked hopefully. "I mean if the doctor's coming soon I'll only have to take it off again anyway."

Hercules' eyebrow raised even further. He knew that Jason had a distinctly relaxed attitude to semi-nudity and could often be found wandering the house shirtless but that had been in the warmer weather. Now that the temperature had dropped outside the lad seemed content enough to cover up, apparently not liking to be cold any more than the rest of them. It seemed odd that he would now want to go shirtless on one of the coldest days so far.

Then Hercules thought about it. Given how sore to touch Jason was and how much help he'd needed to take the tunic off in the first place it actually made sense that he didn't want to put it back on straight away, knowing that he'd only have to take it off again fairly quickly. The bulky wrestler sighed. Much as he sympathised he didn't want Jason getting too cold and encountering unnecessary pain as his muscles stiffened up even more… but then again, Hercules supposed that it didn't matter whether Jason stayed warm by wearing a tunic or by other means. He smiled and nodded.

"Just wait there," he said.

Moving quickly Hercules made his way back into the kitchen, looking around searchingly. Where had he put it? Then he caught sight of a flash of brown fabric peeking out from under the table and smiled as he bent down to pick up Jason's cloak, discarded in his hurry to check the young man for injuries yesterday. The wool it was made of was soft and warm and of far finer quality than anything any of the occupants of the house had ever been able to afford. Jason _had_ needed winter clothes, Hercules supposed, and the quality of the clothes that Meriones had supplied was sufficiently high that they would last for years, and Meriones most definitely _could_ afford it, and yet Hercules found himself worrying at how dependent on the giant merchant they seemed to be getting. It wasn't Meriones' place to do this, he groused to himself. They were all adults (however much he thought of the two boys as children at times) and as such should be providing for themselves and not receiving charity, however well meant.

Still deep in thought the burly man wandered back into Pythagoras' room, the cloak in his hands. In his absence Isosceles, who had sensibly been hiding under the kitchen shelves while all the shouting had been going on, had taken advantage of the lull in activity and the hush that had descended to make her way back into Pythagoras' room. The kitten, much larger than when Jason had acquired her and already showing signs of taking after her human in terms of stubbornness and wilfulness, had taken up residence in the mathematician's room not long after the young man had become ill. While Jason's bed had always been her favourite sleeping place (and indeed Jason himself had always been her favourite human) she had barely left Pythagoras' side since his illness had begun – clearly feeling that he needed her particular brand of love and attention far more than Jason did at the moment.

Now she hopped up onto the bed and wandered up to the young blonde purring affectionately and forcing her way under his hand. Pythagoras smiled and started stroking her. He had been grateful for her company as he had begun to recover. He friends simply could not spend every waking minute with him and, as he had told Jason earlier, he had found himself becoming bored, and in fact more than a little lonely at times. The kitten had been his constant companion however, purring at him when he was lonely or playing with his trailing fingers when he was bored.

Isosceles continued to purr ecstatically. Eventually though she turned and spotted Jason in the chair at the foot of the bed. She stopped and stared, sensing that something was not quite right with her human. She took a step towards Jason then stopped and looked enquiringly back at Pythagoras, rubbing his hand with her head.

"It's alright," the young man murmured soothingly. "I don't mind."

Whether Isosceles understood his tone of voice or whether she had just decided to go and see Jason anyway, she took no further prompting and trotted to the bottom of the bed purring loudly once again.

Jason smiled softly at the kitten.

"Hey Isis," he said, using the short form of her name that he had come up with. "You're a good girl aren't you? You've been looking after Pythagoras for us." He paused and tickled the little cat under the chin. "You've done a good job. He's going to be better soon… and I'm alright too so you can go and carry on keeping him company."

Isosceles continued to nuzzle his hand for a few moments and then moved back up the bed only to stop and settle down beside Jason's injured knee, nestling into the side of his leg as tightly as she could.

Jason looked at her with amusement.

"You're stubborn," he said softly to the kitten.

"And you're not?" Hercules rumbled from the doorway. "I think we all know who she takes after."

He moved forwards and slipped the cloak around his young friend's shoulders, pulling it around to the front and tucking it in securely.

"This way you can keep that tunic off and still be warm," he said. "It's only until the doctor's been mind. Then you'll be putting your night clothes back on and getting tucked up in bed."

Jason rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he said.

"I mean it," Hercules admonished.

Jason sighed. To be honest he really would quite like to be getting into bed. The thought of resting against a soft mattress was definitely appealing.

"It's alright," he said. "I'll get myself to bed as soon as he's been."

"Good," Hercules grunted as he made his way back out of the room. He was heading towards Jason's "bedroom" in the corner alcove when a knock at the door made him change direction, and he opened it to admit Cinyras the doctor – who appeared to be more or less sober.

"They're both through there," he said without any preamble.

If Cinyras was at all surprised to see Jason in the chair at the bottom of his friend's bed rather than in bed himself, he gave no sign. After all, he reflected, he hadn't actually told the young man that bed rest was on the cards beyond the previous day but had trusted to the fact that the lad would be far too sore to move. It appeared he had underestimated Jason's tenacity and headstrong nature. Well he had dealt with headstrong patients before and no doubt would again so that particular problem failed to daunt him.

Moving quickly to the young man's side, he was all business. He tilted Jason's head up to look into the clear hazel eyes and smiled.

"No pains in your back or neck?" he asked.

"No," Jason answered honestly.

"No feeling of being sick? No sudden and severe chest pains? No coughing blood? No pains in your stomach?"

"No."

"Good," Cinyras said, his smile growing wider. "I should of course have bid you a good afternoon and apologised for being late. A previous patient detained me for longer than I expected and I required a small cup of wine to fortify my nerves afterwards."

He looked speculatively at Jason.

"I don't think unbinding your ribs will serve any purpose other than to cause you pain," he muttered, half to himself. "I already know that three are cracked and as they appear stable I do not wish to dislodge anything by unnecessary movement." He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Jason.

Jason had the good grace to blush and look slightly abashed.

The doctor laughed lightly and patted the lad on the shoulder.

"No doubt your friend out there has already voiced his displeasure," he said as he gestured towards the kitchen where Hercules lurked.

Jason nodded emphatically.

"And no doubt you have eaten," Cinyras continued.

"Yes," Jason answered. "Hercules insisted."

"Good. I won't need to add my own displeasure then," retorted Cinyras, although he smiled to take the sting out of his words. "I think then that we can move on to examining your knee."

With deft hands he unwrapped the strapping he had placed around Jason's leg, dislodging Isosceles from her place in the process and earning himself a hiss from the affronted creature who stalked off to the top of the bed to receive comfort from Pythagoras.

As the doctor removed the bandage, Pythagoras manoeuvred himself into a position where he could see the proceedings more clearly. He grimaced at what he saw. Jason's right knee was far more swollen and inflamed than he had been expecting, the skin all colours of the rainbow with deep bruising. It was immediately clear to the young mathematician that there was no way his friend should be putting any weight on it for the next few days at least.

Cinyras sighed.

"The swelling has not gone down as much as I had hoped it would," he said.

Pythagoras stiffened. It had been worse than that? He shuddered.

"Alright," the doctor continued, "the bottom line is that you absolutely _must_ keep your weight off that leg until the swelling in your knee has gone down. Your knee has nerves that connect the bones and those have been severely stretched when you twisted it. At the moment you risk doing a lot more damage if you try to walk on it – perhaps even tearing those nerves – and that would not be possible to fix. As I have no wish to see you cripple yourself permanently I must insist that until such time as I tell you otherwise you must keep your foot off the floor."

"Can I move about with crutches?" Jason asked eagerly. "I've got some under the bed somewhere…"

"Why?" Cinyras asked.

"I broke my foot a few months ago," Jason answered shortly, his face darkening at the memory.

Cinyras pondered. Clearly there was a story here but he was not likely to learn it now.

"Until those ribs have healed a little I don't want you moving around too much," he said. "Going to the latrine and back will be acceptable. Anything else will not. Once there is no longer any danger of you doing more damage to yourself you can move around more."

Jason sighed. It was about what he had expected really although it was still a bit frustrating.

Cinyras smiled again and turned to examine Pythagoras in spite of the blonde's assertion that it really wasn't necessary. His smile widened. Despite their obvious differences these two young men were probably more alike than even they realised. He suddenly felt a little sorry for their older friend. On the whole, however, the blonde proved far more tractable than his dark haired friend and Cinyras was done with his examination fairly quickly. He turned back in time to see Hercules assisting Jason to get into what appeared to be his nightclothes and settling the young man back into the chair, covering him carefully with the cloak. Cinyras hid a smile behind his hand. He wondered if these three were aware of how like a family they behaved.

"Right," he said to Pythagoras. "You are on the way to getting better. Rest as much as you need and only begin to get up when you feel well enough. I will leave a different tonic that will help to dry up the wetness in your lungs. I understand that you are a healer."

Pythagoras murmured his agreement.

"Then you will know what this tonic contains," Cinyras said. "Take a dose three times a day as well as the other tonic you were already taking. You will recover your strength fairly quickly I believe."

With a final nod towards Hercules he left and let himself out of the house heading off to see his next patient.

Hercules grunted and left the room, heading back towards the alcove that served as Jason's bedroom. He returned shortly dragging the young man's bed with him. Both his young friends stared.

"What are you doing?" Pythagoras asked.

"It'll be easier for me to look after you both if you're in the same room," Hercules answered.

"You don't really need to look after me," Jason ventured. "I'll be fine. Just concentrate on getting Pythagoras well."

Hercules didn't change expression. Having put the bed down near Pythagoras', he turned with his arms folded.

"Fair enough," he rumbled reasonably. "Just take your tunic off for me. I need to check that that bandage is secure."

Jason sighed.

"I can't," he grumbled. "At least not without help."

"That's exactly my point," Hercules growled. "Like it or not you need looking after right now and I'm the one that'll have to do it."

Jason glowered at him, knowing that Hercules was right but not wanting to admit it.

"Look," Hercules said, "Pythagoras isn't well enough to be going anywhere yet and the truth is that even without that knee you really need to be on bed rest for a few days. This way you get to keep each other company so neither of you get too bored or lonely and I can still do what I need to do for the day without having to worry about either one of you. You've slept near one another on enough journeys. Think of it as an indoor camping trip."

Jason sighed again and rolled his eyes. Then he caught Pythagoras' eyes. The young mathematician looked almost hopeful and Jason knew he had lost even before he started.

"I would appreciate the company," Pythagoras murmured. "I cannot concentrate on my work and it is so boring lying here alone. I suggested playing a game earlier but if you were to remain sitting in that chair to play I would only worry that you were uncomfortable."

"Fine," Jason sighed, allowing Hercules to help him to his feet and settle him into bed. He could not help the sigh of relief that he gave as his aching body relaxed into the mattress, nor the roll of his eyes at Hercules' obvious amusement.

The big man nodded with satisfaction and pulled up the stool that Pythagoras had been using as a bedside table between the two beds, fetching the young mathematician's Tilia board from the small table in the corner and setting it up so both his friends could get to it.

With both young men rapidly settling in to a game the burly wrestler left the room. All in all he was rather pleased with himself. In one neat move he felt he had solved several problems. Jason would keep Pythagoras entertained and prevent the lad from becoming lonely, and Pythagoras would keep an eye on his more impulsive dark haired friend and keep him from doing too much damage to himself over the next couple of days as his body healed. Hercules smiled. Now that the boys were settled comfortably he thought he could reward himself with a drink.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thank you for the reviews... I _do_ look forward to reading reviews!

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter too - don't forget to let me know if you did!

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><p>It was dark when Hercules slipped back into Pythagoras' room, making as little noise as possible. It was nearly time for him to go and meet the merchant he was going to be working for but he felt the need to check on both of his friends first. The night would be colder than ever, the promise of a storm hanging in the air, and he needed to make sure that the storm shutters were in place as well as the usual woven blinds and to build up the fire, banking it around the edges to make it last for as long as possible. At least then he could go to work knowing that the house was as warm and draught free as he could make it. With one friend ill and the other one hurt that was important. He wanted to make sure that both the boys were as comfortable as he could make them even if he was not present. With luck, he thought, they would both sleep through the night – although he could never be quite sure. Jason in particular still suffered from occasional random bouts of insomnia, although it was a lot better than it had been. Much to the young man's disgust he had been subjected to several well-meaning gentle lectures from his friends over the last couple of months about his eating and sleeping habits, and both his friends were far more tuned in to his moods and problems than they had been. Pythagoras in particular had seen Jason's insomnia as a problem for him to tackle head on; the healer in him determined to break the pattern.<p>

For the most part Jason accepted both his friends' attempts to help without too much complaint – although he was known to wander off muttering under his breath at times. Over the years he'd grown so used to his own disturbed and random sleep patterns that what seemed odd to the other two was completely normal to him. It wasn't until it was pointed out to him that he realised just how worried the other two were about him. After that he had submitted to Pythagoras' gentle ministrations and queries without comment.

The mathematician had rapidly discovered that, as with most people, Jason managed to sleep best when he was relaxed and comfortable and had therefore started a campaign to ensure that his friend's stress and anxiety levels were as low as possible. Until his recent illness Pythagoras had devoted the last couple of hours in an evening to quiet and tranquil activities with his friend, sometimes playing quiet games and sometimes telling old stories or recounting old but pleasant memories to one another. A warm drink seemed to help too – either the spiced milk drink that Jason seemed to love and seemed to evoke so many good memories, or, on his darkest days when he seemed to be constantly on edge, a calming infusion of chamomile with added honey for sweetness. All in all Pythagoras was rather pleased with the success of his efforts. Jason slept a lot more peacefully than his friends had ever known, the bouts of insomnia now few and far between.

Storm shutters and blinds in place, Hercules turned back to face the room. Pythagoras slept peacefully, a sprawling tangle of long limbs propped up on pillows to try to help his breathing. His chest sounded nowhere near as congested as it had just a couple of days ago – the wheezing rattle that had worried his friends so much was fading rapidly. Hercules offered up yet another silent prayer of thanks to the gods for sparing his friend when so many others had died of this contagion. The lad was still too pale, even by his own sallow standards, and had lost weight that with his already skinny frame he could ill afford to lose, but those were things that they could address with time. The burly wrestler smiled softly at the young genius and moved over to the bed to pull the blanket a little more firmly around Pythagoras' shoulders.

Turning back around Hercules was surprised to see Jason watching him, his dark eyes thoughtful. The lad had been so quiet that the big man had presumed he was asleep. With a smile he took the two short steps to the young man's bed and crouched down beside it.

"You alright?" he murmured.

Jason glanced across at the sleeping Pythagoras.

"I've been better," he admitted in a whisper. "Listen, I really am sorry that I didn't tell you I hadn't eaten," he added contritely.

"Forgiven and forgotten," Hercules answered quietly. "Or at least it will be as soon as you're back on your feet."

Jason shifted uncomfortably in bed, wincing noticeably.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Jason replied honestly. "Pretty sorry for myself too... but it could be worse."

Hercules frowned.

"You should get some sleep," he said, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"I'm not sure I can," Jason said. "I can't seem to get comfortable." He sighed. "I'll be alright in a few days but I just ache all over at the moment."

Hercules' frown deepened.

"Hmm," he murmured. "You've been taking that tonic like you were supposed to?"

"Yes." Jason rolled his eyes. "I'm not that daft."

"I never said you were," Hercules rumbled reasonably. "The tonic's not helping though?"

Jason grimaced.

"It is," he answered slowly. "Well it takes the edge off anyway. It's just that… well… it wears off after a bit."

Hercules nodded slowly. The last thing he wanted was to go off to work knowing that one of his boys was in for an uncomfortable and probably sleepless night.

"I might be able to help with that," he muttered, levering himself to his feet. "I'll be back in a minute."

In the kitchen he made his preparations as quickly as possible and made his way back to the small bedroom with two cups in his hands – one with steam wreathing above it. He set the hot cup down on the stool between the two beds and sat himself down on side of the bed feeling the bed frame creak and the mattress dip beneath him.

"Sit up a bit," he said softly.

Jason eased himself up the bed carefully until he was half sitting and half lying against the pillows. He took the proffered cup from Hercules and began to raise it to his mouth only to stop and lower it suspiciously. Some of the tonics he'd been subjected to by Pythagoras over the months had left a lasting impression – had been so bad that he would almost rather put up with illness or pain to avoid drinking them again. In particular he remembered the sleeping draught that the young mathematician had decided that he needed when he had had the breakdown. That had been truly nasty and had led to some interesting battles of will between himself (determined not to drink the revolting liquid) and Meriones (determined that he would take it at all costs). If the contents of this cup were anything like that tonic he would have to find a way of disposing of it without the currently vigilant Hercules noticing.

"What's in it?" he asked.

Hercules rolled his eyes. Trust Jason to try to avoid taking medicine that was clearly going to be good for him, he thought irritably. He knew the young man's aversion to some of Pythagoras' concoctions and knew that Jason could be almost diabolically creative when it came to avoiding something he didn't like. Not that he completely blamed the lad of course. He had been subjected to some of Pythagoras' more rancid tonics over the years himself. They always worked in the end but sometimes the taste was indescribably bad. Right now though the cup contained medicine left by the doctor and Hercules was determined that his young friend was going to take it without a murmur.

"It's some more of those powders the doctor gave you dissolved in water," he said firmly. "They worked well yesterday. Now get them down you."

Jason looked down into the cup. The flavour hadn't been too bad yesterday he supposed and it _had_ taken a lot of his pain away even if it had made him sleepy. Actually anything that relieved his current discomfort would be welcome in spite of his fears that it might taste bad. He gulped the liquid down quickly, murmuring his thanks as Hercules removed the now empty cup from him and set it onto the stool.

"I thought the doctor had only left enough of those powders for one dose," he said quietly.

"He had," Hercules answered with a smile, "but Kerkyon dropped by earlier with some more. Apparently the doctor meant to leave them after he saw you and Pythagoras earlier but he forgot. He said you were to take them last thing at night. Said they'd help you sleep straight through without waking up in pain."

Jason nodded. If yesterday was anything to go by it wouldn't be too long before the medicine kicked in. That was what he was hoping anyway. At the moment his knee was throbbing and his ribs ached unmercifully.

Hercules watched the young man carefully. He wasn't a natural nurse by any means but neither of the boys seemed to object to his particular brand of gruff care. The way the pillows were lying did not look very comfortable and certainly wouldn't be helping Jason to rest easily, he decided.

"Sit up a minute," he rumbled.

Jason looked slightly startled at the curt instruction but did at least comply, although Hercules couldn't help but notice how slowly and gingerly his friend was moving. He frowned deeply and lent forwards to plump and rearrange the pillows properly, pushing Jason back down gently to nestle amongst them. Pulling back the covers slightly the big man immediately noticed that some of the blankets elevating and supporting his young friend's knee had become dislodged as Jason had wriggled in search of a comfortable way of lying. With swift hands Hercules collected the dislodged blankets and refolded them, unceremoniously but carefully lifting the young man's leg to slide them back underneath, propping up the injured limb as comfortably and efficiently as he could manage. He didn't fail to notice the little grunt of pain Jason was unable to keep from escaping as his knee was jostled or the faint sigh of relief as he found himself situated a lot more comfortably than he had been. Still moving swiftly Hercules straightened out the blankets and pulled them up to cover his friend properly, settling the lad down for the night whether Jason realised it or not. He was gratified to note that Jason already looked far more relaxed and comfortable than he had just a few minutes earlier. Judging that the steaming cup was now cool enough to drink he held it out to the young man.

Jason looked at him questioningly but smiled as a waft of chamomile hit his nostrils. He took a long sip and sighed with pleasure. Hercules it appeared could make chamomile tea just as well as Pythagoras could (although Jason never called it that in front of them knowing that they had no idea what tea was) and knew just the right amount of honey to add to the brew to suit Jason's tastes – although as far as the young man was aware the burly wrestler had never made it for him before.

"Thanks," he murmured.

Hercules smiled.

"Why do you like that stuff so much?" he asked.

Jason's eyes grew distant.

"It reminds me of Chloe – my foster mother," he said. "She was into herbal remedies and all that. If I had stomach ache she'd give me peppermint and if I was upset or couldn't sleep she'd give me chamomile. She'd come up to my room and sit on the side of the bed and she'd have two cups with her – one for her and one for me. She'd talk about what I'd done that day, or what sort of day she'd had, or what we were going to do tomorrow or next week. It was nice. It always made me feel… wanted… you know?"

Hercules' smile softened, his eyes understanding. He was actually incredibly glad that Jason at least had _some_ good memories of his childhood. Knowing a little (and it really was only a little) of the lad's background he had begun to fear that his friend had no truly pleasant memories to sustain him. While he hadn't been physically abused in the way that Pythagoras had (and the thought of _that_ still made Hercules' blood boil – what sort of father hurt their own child like that?), Jason had certainly been neglected – an unwanted little scrap of humanity – and what had happened with the man, Hector, made Hercules shudder and long to hunt the man down and rip him limb from limb. It never failed to amaze him that his boys had matured into such caring, kind and pleasant young men given their respective starts in life.

Noticing that Jason was beginning to grow drowsy, Hercules took the empty cup from his unresisting fingers and stood to readjust the bed covers, pulling them a little higher to ward off the night's chill. A light hand on his arm made him pause for a moment and he looked down to see Jason looking back at him with trusting eyes, his hand covering Hercules' own and squeezing lightly.

"Thanks," the young man said genuinely.

Hercules had to swallow past the sudden lump that formed in his throat knowing just what that little gesture of gratitude meant. What had he ever done to earn the complete trust and devotion of these two boys he wondered?

"No problem," he muttered thickly.

A sudden snore from the other occupant of the room startled them both and made them look across at Pythagoras. The blonde was sleeping with his mouth dropped open in a most unbecoming manner. Jason couldn't restrain the light and fond chuckle he gave as he looked at his younger friend. Hercules joined him wholeheartedly and sat back down on the edge of the bed looking between the two boys with fond amusement.

"He really is getting better isn't he?" Jason asked softly, his tone affectionate as he looked at Pythagoras.

"Yes," Hercules answered. "Now we've just got to get you better too," he added with mock-sternness.

Jason laughed lightly; a faint whisper of a chuckle.

"Oh I'll be all right," he said ruefully. "No doubt I'll be back to doing something impulsive and stupid in no time… and making you lose the little hair you've got left."

"Scamp," retorted Hercules affectionately. He levelled a long look at Jason, noting how the young man blinked sleepily, the painkiller having done its work once more. "Why don't you close your eyes for a bit?" he added kindly.

Jason nodded distractedly and nestled down further into the pillows, yawning and fighting the urge to drift off before he'd even said goodnight properly. Hercules smiled, knowing that this was one battle his headstrong young friend would most definitely lose. He stood and patted Jason on the shoulder warmly.

"Night," Jason mumbled on the very edge of sleep now as his eyes drifted closed.

"Sleep well my friend," Hercules murmured.

With one last look to assure himself that his two young friends were alright, the burly wrestler made his way over and banked up the fire. The house was as warm as it could be and his friends were as comfortable as he could make them. Content that everything was as good as it could be under the circumstances, Hercules made his way to the door and slipped out into the night. It was time to get to work and earn some money so that nothing like this could ever happen again. With one final look back at the house, Hercules trotted off down the street, a long night ahead of him.

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><p>The wind whipped through the open windows and down the dimly lit corridor stirring up small clouds of dust along the edges and in the corners. Someone had not been doing their job properly and cleaning the Palace like they should. And really would it have been too much to ask for someone to put up the storm shutters in the entire Palace and not just the King's quarters? Pasiphae clenched her teeth as she stalked down the corridor towards her husband's study, her cloak billowing around her ankles. The very idea that she was having to wear a cloak indoors – in her own home – was utterly ridiculous. Obviously the servants had become lazy over the last few weeks with everyone concentrating on the recent plague. She would have to see to the matter in the morning. Punishments would need to be delivered; heads would roll!<p>

At the end of the corridor she stopped and took a deep, calming breath. It would not do to go to Minos in a state of anger. After all she was ready to begin her campaign to bring Jason to the Palace; to bring him to her side. Step one was to reconcile Minos to the idea that her son might potentially be alive somewhere in the world. From there she could slowly prepare the King for the news that in fact the boy was living in their city and had been doing so for many months now. She was sure that Minos would not object to Jason – once he saw the benefits of the situation that was. After all a local suitor for Ariadne was far preferable to the younger son of a rival King who might seek to gain control of Atlantis through the marriage. That had been why Minos was so willing to accept Heptarian as a husband for his daughter despite the fact that he had not been a prince. It would help that Ariadne was already so clearly attached to Jason as well. Pasiphae knew that Minos would do anything for his beloved daughter and that her happiness was one of the most important things in his life. The Queen was sure that Minos would appreciate the political implications as well. Those elements of society who were still loyal to the Aeson (even if they did not show it openly) would be brought to heel. An alliance between the son of the old King and the daughter of the new would heal the last divisions in Atlantian society that had been caused by the civil war. There would be many political advantages to unifying those bloodlines and Pasiphae was sure that Minos would realise what they were; if nothing else her husband was politically astute

Pasiphae smiled to herself, more convinced than ever that Minos could be persuaded. The only danger was how Jason might react. She did not know the boy well enough to be able to anticipate his feelings on the matter, but she had a horrible feeling that Jason could make life extremely difficult if he chose to dig his heels in. What she had seen of his behaviour over the past few months had indicated that her son, while not necessarily blessed with a great deal of common sense, was exceptionally loyal and caring with a strong belief in what was right. He also appeared to be very stubborn, independent and at times outspoken. How would Minos react to such a stepson? The boy clearly had no idea of the proper etiquette of court or of acceptable behaviour in the presence of royalty. Pasiphae shuddered as she remembered the scene Jason had caused when he had dared to raise his voice to Minos in the middle of his own trial. Brave but uncultured, she decided. It wasn't his fault that he behaved like a peasant though. His upbringing had clearly left much to be desired. But he could learn, Pasiphae reminded herself. He had been such a bright, inquisitive infant and she could not imagine that time would have dulled his senses. Her first job would be to teach him propriety; to behave with the decorum expected of a member of the royal family.

Stepping lightly through the door into Minos' inner sanctum, she paused and looked at her husband. The King had never been particularly robust and the burdens of the crown weighed heavily on him. It was obvious in the grey of his beard and the weary slump of his shoulders that Minos was not a truly well man. For a moment Pasiphae felt a surge of what could almost be described as pity for the man. He had not been a bad husband and had always been manipulable, but had also never truly given Pasiphae the power she desired. He had loved his children more than he had loved her, that much had been obvious from the start, and still mourned the loss of Therus. Perhaps he could be encouraged when the time come to view Jason, if not as his own then certainly as someone to fill the gap left behind by his son. Pasiphae smiled again and stepped lightly forwards.

"You are working late, My Lord," she said softly.

Minos sighed.

"With the pestilence dying away there is much work to be done," he answered, never looking up from the document he was reading.

Pasiphae allowed her expression to become grave.

"So many have lost their lives," she said. "So many mothers have lost their sons." She sighed pensively and seated herself in a chair near her husband.

"Indeed," Minos agreed. He looked at his wife for the first time. "You seem sad my love."

"I am afraid that these melancholy thoughts have brought back memories of my own son," answered Pasiphae. "I can't help imagining what he would have been like."

Minos frowned. The Queen had talked so infrequently about the child she had lost over the years that it was easy to forget she had once been a mother.

"I am sure he would have made you proud," he said comfortingly. "Forgive me. I sometimes forget that you have lost a child."

"I was distraught when he disappeared from his cradle," Pasiphae admitted.

"I remember," Minos said. "You would not leave your chambers for days. I held you as you cried."

"The worst part of the affair was that I could never truly be sure what had happened to my son. I have always believed that he was killed but what if it was not true? What if the child lived and was raised by others? What if my son is still alive somewhere out there? We never searched for him. He could have been alive all these years and I would not know it."

Minos' frown deepened.

"There was a confession My Love," the King argued softly. "You know that one of my soldiers confessed to killing the boy by accident and disposing of his body. You attended his execution yourself."

"That soldier had been in the service of Aeson before he changed sides and joined our cause," Pasiphae stated. "What if he never truly changed allegiance? What if he helped to spirit my son away?"

"You are distressing yourself Pasiphae," Minos said firmly. "Surely if your child had survived then we would have heard rumour of it?"

"Oh there were rumours," Pasiphae admitted. "But I made sure they were squashed. I could not bear to hear Jason's name spoken much less hear the tales of the common people about what they imagined had happened to him. I destroyed my own son's memory because I could not bear to remember him."

"Pasiphae…"

"It may be that the boy is indeed dead. I am simply requesting the permission to search; to try to discover the truth," The Queen said. "That is not so much to ask is it?"

"If it will give you peace, my love, then so be it. I am afraid that you will need to prepare yourself for disappointment, however," Minos stated. "I do not believe that the boy could have been hidden so well and for so long and no one know who he is. If he were still alive then surely he would have come forwards to challenge me for the throne by now."

"Perhaps, if he _is_ still alive, he does not know who he is," Pasiphae answered knowing this to be the real truth. "Perhaps he would not have the desire to challenge you."

Minos smiled wryly.

"Perhaps," he acknowledged, not really believing that this could ever be the case. "Search for the boy if you want but be prepared to finally accept that the child is dead. I will support you in this no matter what you may discover."

Pasiphae hid a smile. This was going better than she had ever dreamed. Minos might not believe that her son could be alive yet but nor had he been totally dismayed by the idea. His willingness to do whatever it took to make her happy was something that she supposed most women would find endearing. The was still a long way to go before Minos would accept Jason without having him killed on the spot and even further to go for him to accept the lad as a potential heir and husband for Ariadne, but it was a start.

"Thank you My Lord," she murmured. "You have no idea what this means to me."

She reached out her hand to cover her husband's lightly, a carefully constructed hopeful smile gracing her features. Minos turned towards her with warm eyes and took her hand in his own. He still loves me, Pasiphae thought with a jolt. After everything that has happened he still cares.

Minos opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by a sudden sharp knocking at the door. Moment lost he let Pasiphae's hand fall and turned back to the door with a deepening frown, annoyed at the interruption.

"Come in," he barked.

The man who entered was the King's chief advisor, Kephalon. He had never been someone of whom Pasiphae was particularly fond. They resented one another's power and influence over the King. Now though he appeared nervous. Almost diffidently he held out a piece of parchment towards Minos – and diffidence was most definitely not in Kephalon's nature. Minos' frown deepened, correctly reading Kephalon's diffidence as fear of his King's reaction to what the parchment concerned. He snatched the document and scanned it, face draining of colour and eyes growing wide with horror.

"You are certain of this?" he demanded.

"Yes Your Majesty," Kephalon stammered. "My spies have confirmed it."

Minos swore. Pasiphae was mildly surprised. It was rare to hear her husband cursing and could usually only be elicited by the worst of news. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace, running his hand through his cropped hair in a frustrated manner.

"Summon the Council," he demanded rounding on the hapless Kephalon. He looked towards his wife. "I will require your attendance as well my love."

"My Lord," Kephalon objected. "While the Queen is undoubtedly gracious and talented she is not a member of the Council."

"I wish for the Queen's advice in this matter. She will bring her own viewpoint to the situation," Minos growled. He turned back towards Pasiphae. "I will need your strength and your cunning."

"What is wrong?" Pasiphae asked. "What has happened?"

Minos glowered.

"King Anaxandros has decided to take advantage of the weakness caused to Atlantis by the recent plague. He plans to invade. His troops are already closing in on the city. We must be prepared for war."

Silently Pasiphae cursed her luck. Now would not be the time to make Minos aware of Jason's existence. Her husband's position would be weak and he would not want to risk any danger to his own position by the emergence of a potential rival for the throne. He would be more likely to act impulsively and without thinking about the potential political implications. Now she would have to wait again until the timing was more auspicious. Briefly she wondered if there might not be something she could do to Anaxandros with her _other_ abilities. The man had irritated her and he would soon learn that it was not a good idea to upset Atlantis' Queen.

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><p>In the cold grey light of morning Hercules sat shivering in a small courtyard outside the warehouse that contained the crates he was guarding. He had sheltered for half of the night in a doorway as the storm that had threatened all evening had lashed the city, pouring torrents of water down on the houses and sending gusts of ice cold wind whistling down the alleyways. He was incredibly glad that he had had the foresight to build up the fire before he left home and had put up the storm shutters to try to protect the little house from drafts – at least his friends should have been relatively warm. He shivered again.<p>

The sun had risen a couple of hours before but the sky remained grey and the daylight pale and wan. It seemed that although last night's storm had blown itself out not long before dawn Atlantis was not free yet – another storm was already on its way. Hercules sighed. The merchant he was working for was supposed to have come and relieved him (and for that matter paid him) sometime around sunrise but he was hideously late. Tired, cold and frustrated, Hercules wondered if it would be selfish of him to purchase a jug of wine on the way home. He was chilled to the bone and a cup of warm spiced wine might help to thaw him out. The boys wouldn't begrudge him he decided in the end and there would still be enough money left over for food and the bills when all was said and done. As it was, Jason's errands from the day before yesterday had provided food for the week and Hercules' job now, stretching as it did to a week long, would keep them in food for some time to come with a little left over which no doubt Pythagoras would squirrel away for emergencies. Hercules sighed, still feeling on edge. It was a feeling that he knew would remain with him until both boys were fully well and on their feet again.

A noise from the courtyard entrance drove him to his feet, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. Then the merchant, Faenus, bustled through the archway, his long robe dragging in the mud caused by the night's rain. The hem was thick and dripping with it halfway to the knee, Hercules noticed dispassionately. He forced himself to relax, driving his sword back into its sheath. It would have helped if he had liked Faenus more but the man was an arrogant fool who thought himself better than others. Still even an arrogant fool paid good money. Hercules stepped back slightly to allow the merchant access to his storeroom.

Faenus looked at him with a barely concealed sneer.

"It is good to see that you are taking such good care of my goods," he said, his voice nasal.

"It's what I'm being paid for," Hercules growled.

A brief and unpleasant smile touched the merchant's lips. He reached inside his robe and pulled out a small pouch of money and held it out to Hercules. The burly wrestler put his hand out to take the pouch only for Faenus to pull it back at the last moment, the unpleasant smile widening.

"You might try being a little more friendly… as I'm the one paying your wages," he smirked.

"You aren't paying me to be friendly," Hercules rumbled. "You're paying me to guard your goods."

"Quite," Faenus said dropping the pouch into Hercules' hand. "You may go." He dismissed the big man with a negligent flip of his hand.

Hercules resisted the urge to swear or thump the man knowing that he still needed the job and would have to return here tonight.

"Thank you," he said through gritted teeth, turning on his heel and stalking away before he did something he might regret.

The agora was buzzing as Hercules stalked through it, busier than it had been in weeks it seemed. Perhaps with the pestilence fading the city was coming back to life and yet there was a tension in the air; a heavy atmosphere that had not been present even at the worst moments of the recent plague; a sense of fear. Some citizens conversed with one another in heavy, urgent whispers and looked around themselves fearfully, while others rushed here and there buying large quantities of food.

Hercules, however, was oblivious to all of it. His tired mind was focussed solely on getting home; on falling into bed and sleeping for half the day; of warming himself by the fire with a cup of warm spiced wine to take away the chill of the night; of checking up on the two boys and making sure that they were alright. He stumbled onwards, pausing only at the wine merchant in one of the side streets leading from the main market square towards his house to buy a jug of "under the table". The merchant was an old acquaintance and held a small supply of the highly illegal but good quality wine in reserve for his best customers.

The house was silent when he quietly let himself back in and dropped his sword onto the table. He frowned lightly. The house felt strange being this quiet. Usually both lads would be up by now and pottering around; usually they were both up before Hercules. On quiet feet he made his way over to Pythagoras' bedroom and peered inside. Both young men were still fast asleep, sprawled out on the beds. Hercules smiled at how young and peaceful they both looked. He backed out of the room soundlessly, not wishing to wake either of his friends.

Moving across the kitchen tiredly the big man made his way over to the fire pit. The fire had gone out although the ashes were still slightly warm indicating that his efforts had kept it burning for a fair portion of the night. He raked the ashes out and started a new fire both to warm himself and to keep the house nice and cosy for his companions. Having made the cup of spiced wine he had been promising himself, Hercules sat back to enjoy it, staring into the flames as his sleepy mind wandered. A quiet knock at the door sent him hurrying over, casting a worried look back towards Pythagoras' bedroom, hoping that the interruption hadn't disturbed the boys.

On the other side of the door Meriones stood, his large face terribly serious.

"Hercules my old friend," he greeted the burly wrestler. "I wished to check how you all are."

Hercules sighed and motioned his friend into the house.

"Gelo spoke to you?" he asked as they sat down at the table.

"Yes," Meriones answered. "I know about Pythagoras' illness and Jason's accident. How are they both?"

"Healing," Hercules responded. "Pythagoras is much stronger than he was. We came so close to losing him. When I think what could have happened…" He paused and sighed. "He is getting better now though. His lungs are clearing. It won't be too long until he's up and around."

"And Jason?"

"Sore as hell but not too badly hurt. That doctor Gelo and Kerkyon brought – thanks for that by the way – wants him on bed rest for a few days – because of his knee more than anything I think. Although he also wants Jason to keep as still as possible because of the damage to his ribs. He's pretty badly bruised to be honest… and too stiff and sore to be getting out of bed and moving around very much. Jason should be fine in a week or so – just as soon as his knee and his ribs heal. I've moved him into Pythagoras' room… makes it easier to look after the pair of them if they're in the same place. Plus they're company for one another."

Meriones sighed.

"And what about you old friend?" he asked. "How are you?"

"Tired," Hercules admitted. "I've been up all night working and I'm not as young as I was."

"And of course you are worried about the boys," the giant said gently.

"No," said Hercules unconvincingly. "They're both grown-ups. I don't need to worry about them."

"But you still do," Meriones answered.

Hercules deflated.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "I suppose I do."

Meriones motioned towards the jug of wine.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"No," Hercules answered, "but there's a little warm spiced wine left in a pan on the fire if you would prefer it."

Once Meriones had helped himself to a cup and was seated back at the table the two old friends found themselves enjoying companionable silence. Both were lost deep in thought.

Presently Meriones sighed.

"Troubled times my friend. Troubled times," he said morosely.

"Mmm," Hercules agreed. "At least the fever seems to be disappearing now though. Haven't heard of any new cases in a couple of days now."

"Perhaps," Meriones sighed, "but I do not recall the city being this troubled since the civil war… and what a time that was. The city divided; brother fighting brother and father fighting son."

"Until Minos won," Hercules rumbled.

"But it was never the same was it? The city never quite went back to how it had been before. We lost our innocence along with our King old friend."

"As I recall you spent most of the civil war in Athens with that merchant you were apprenticed to," remarked Hercules mildly.

"I returned as soon as I had leave to, you know that," Meriones protested. "Not that my presence would have made much difference. I am a trader not a warrior."

Hercules held up his hands placatingly. He had no wish to create an argument with his oldest friend over what amounted to ancient history now.

"Still the war might have ended differently if our little Prince had not been killed," Meriones continued.

Hercules frowned, remembering the theory regarding Jason's origins that Pythagoras had come up with a couple of months ago, and uncomfortably aware of the fact that if the mathematician was correct (and he very often was) the prince that they were discussing was currently fast asleep in the next room with his cat curled into his side. The thought that Jason might actually be a prince was almost laughable though – the lad didn't seem to have an ambitious or formal bone in his body and certainly didn't have the aloofness or arrogance that seemed to come with the territory for members of the royal family (Ariadne of course was the exception – although even she held herself a little apart from other people).

"And what if he hadn't been?" he found himself asking. "What if the Prince was still alive?"

Meriones laughed shortly.

"You are talking about an impossibility old friend," he said. "If he were though… what a glorious day that could be. I would not wish to go back to the troubled times of the war by any means, but a marriage between the old bloodline and the new would solve many problems. Our Princess is young but she must marry and it would be better for Atlantis if it were a child of the city. Yet there is no one suitable…" he sighed. "It is not to be though I fear."

Hercules toyed with his cup.

"But what if it was possible?" he asked, knowing that Meriones was a fairly good at judging the mood of the city.

The giant merchant frowned.

"Do you know something that I do not?" he enquired.

"No," Hercules responded quickly.

"But you suspect something," Meriones stated shrewdly.

"No," Hercules said again.

He couldn't resist a quick glance over his shoulder towards Pythagoras' room though – his eyes drawn to it almost magnetically.

Meriones followed his gaze, a dawning suspicion beginning to grow on his face.

"He is the right age," he murmured.

"I don't know what you mean," Hercules growled.

"Yes you do," Meriones responded flatly. "You suspect that the infant Prince that we lost somehow survived and has grown to manhood… and you suspect that he has returned to his city and is currently sleeping in that room." He nodded towards Pythagoras' room.

Hercules tried to splutter out a denial.

"I do not know what reasons you may have for believing this – although you undoubtedly have reasons," continued Meriones, "but your suspicions – if they are correct – could put our young friend in a very dangerous position."

Hercules sighed.

"He doesn't know what Pythagoras and I suspect," he admitted. "He knows so little of our culture and history… I don't think he's even heard of the old King or the civil war. I don't think he's got the first clue of who he might actually be."

Meriones smiled.

"Your suspicions – your secrets – are safe with me," he promised. "We are friends… and since I have no family left my friends are my family."

"Thank you," Hercules said taking a long drink.

"You realise of course that if you are right… if Jason is who you think he is… then he has the potential to change the whole future of the city. His path in life could change drastically if he chose to take it."

Hercules frowned.

"I can't imagine Jason doing that," he said. "I mean, yes, we all know the lad is different… special… but he has no real ambition… and I can't really see him getting on with the stuffed shirts at the Palace either."

"They might find him refreshingly direct," argued Meriones. Then he thought about it. "Perhaps not," he conceded. He looked hard at Hercules "In any case I think you are right to keep this to ourselves… particularly now."

"Why?" Hercules frowned.

"With the trouble that is arising it would be best to cause no further strife within the city," Meriones said. "King Minos needs all the support he can get if the city is to survive. The re-emergence of a potential rival for the throne would be dealt with swiftly and permanently I fear."

"What trouble?" Hercules tried again.

Before Meriones could answer a sudden bump from Pythagoras' room sent the burly wrestler hurrying in that direction, his giant friend in tow.

Jason was sitting on the floor of the room trying to detangle himself from the sheets.

"What exactly do you think you're doing up?" Hercules hissed testily. A quick glance at the other occupant of the room assured him that Pythagoras was still sleeping – his illness engendered exhaustion enough to keep him so fast asleep that he could probably have slept through an attack by the Minotaur.

Jason flushed with embarrassment.

"I fell out of bed," he admitted almost inaudibly. "I was having a lovely dream and I guess I rolled over too much. I woke up when I hit the floor."

Meriones resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the young man's expense.

Hercules, on the other hand, frowned and moved over to Jason, helping his friend to untangle the bed covers from around himself and then gently assisting him up onto the side of the bed. Jason hissed slightly as his body protested the sudden movement. Hercules' frown deepened.

"Have you done any more damage to yourself?" he asked.

"Nah," Jason responded, his blush deepening. "It's just my pride that's hurt this time."

"Right then," Hercules said, "let's get you back into bed."

Jason bit his lip.

"I was wondering if you could bring those crutches in here?" he asked hopefully.

"Jason," Hercules growled, "you know as well as I do that the doctor said you weren't to move around. You're on bed rest for the next couple of days and that's that."

"Actually he said I could… that is… I need to go," Jason finished in a rush, blushing even harder.

"Go where?" Hercules asked uncomprehendingly. "You're not going anywhere except back to bed!"

"You know… _go_," Jason tried again squirming slightly. "I really need to go."

Hercules looked at him blankly but sternly, unwilling to budge an inch. Jason on the other hand was blushing a brilliant red and looking anywhere but at the other occupants of the room. If his cheeks got much hotter they wouldn't need a fire to keep them warm, Meriones thought wryly. He jumped in to save his young friend from anymore embarrassment.

"I think that he wishes to use the latrine," the giant informed Hercules quietly.

"Oh," Hercules responded, understanding dawning. "Well why didn't you just say so?" he demanded turning back to Jason and helping the lad to his feet.

"I was trying to," Jason objected, still blushing.

"Did you wish me to go and find the crutches?" Meriones enquired mildly.

"No I don't think so. I can support him just as well as a crutch," Hercules answered. "Besides you might start getting ideas about getting up if they were where you could reach them," he added to Jason, levelling an almost accusatory look at the young man.

"What makes you think I'd do that?" asked Jason, his tone a little hurt.

"Because I know you," Hercules responded immediately. "You're incapable of doing what you're told." He eased the lad around and started to move towards the toilet. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you to the latrine. The quicker we can get there, the quicker we can get you back to bed."

"This is embarrassing," Jason muttered to himself as Hercules helped him across the room.

"I don't see why," Hercules proclaimed.

"I haven't needed help to go to the loo since I was about six," the young man grumbled.

"The loo?" Meriones asked.

"It's a Jasonism for latrine," Hercules answered calmly. "You'll get used to his strange words eventually."

"Could we talk about something else?" Jason asked a little plaintively. "It's embarrassing enough as it is."

Meriones smiled slightly.

"Of course," he said. Knowing that his presence was only adding to Jason's mortification he made his way back to the table and picked up his cup. He frowned as he noticed it was empty and helped himself to some from the jug on the table. Hercules would not mind.

Business done, Hercules started to help Jason hop back across the room, being careful not to tighten his arm too much and thereby cause any extra pain from the young man's cracked ribs. He was well aware that much as he was trying to hide it Jason was wincing with every step. As they came level with the table the burly wrestler felt his younger companion falter and gently lowered the lad onto a stool, crouching down in front of him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Jason attempted a smiled.

"Better than I was yesterday," he said. "I was still feeling pretty weak and shaky then. Now I'm just a bit stiff and sore."

"More than a _bit_ stiff and sore I would imagine," Meriones rumbled, his blue eyes concerned.

"Yes," Jason admitted. "Put it this way I won't be objecting too much to be getting back to bed. A nice soft mattress actually sounds pretty good right now." He shifted uncomfortably but smiled at the two older men, trying to reassure them that he was alright.

He was treated to two identical looks of concern and faint disbelief. Clearly neither Hercules nor Meriones fully believed his attempted reassurance, although the burly wrestler did acknowledge that the young man did look much better than yesterday; he did not look so pale or so close to fainting again.

"When did you last have anything for the pain?" Hercules asked.

"When you gave me those powders last night," Jason answered. "I slept right through the night until I fell out of bed just now."

Hercules nodded thoughtfully.

"You're definitely due some more then," he stated firmly, heading into the bedroom to fetch the bottle of tonic.

Jason nodded and watched him leave. He turned back to find Meriones watching him thoughtfully and smiled again.

Meriones' eyes narrowed, even though he returned Jason's small smile with one of his own. He had been away on business for a month and a half and had only really seen the young man on two brief occasions in the two months since he had left Meriones' house and returned home. After everything that had happened while Jason had been staying with him the giant merchant felt the urge to reassure himself that the lad really was better.

"How have you been?" he asked gently.

"Fine," Jason answered. "I mean I get good days and bad days… but I get a lot more good days than I get bad now. I don't have to force myself to be around people anymore and I'm not half as moody as I was so things must be getting better. I just wish I could make Hercules and Pythagoras see that; wish they wouldn't keep trying to protect me from every little thing. It's almost like they're afraid to be themselves around me; like they think I'll go to pieces if they say something wrong."

"Give it time," Meriones advised. "What happened was hard on them both. They were very worried about you."

"I know," admitted Jason with a soft sigh, "and I know that things will get back to normal in time… but is it so wrong of me to want to put it behind me?"

"No," Meriones answered. "I think it's only natural… but you mustn't try to pretend it never happened either."

"I'm not," Jason protested. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. I just need to start living my life again; regaining control."

"I understand… and Hercules and Pythagoras probably do too… deep down. Just give them time and give yourself time too. Your life is a marathon not a sprint."

"Any more words of wisdom for me oh great and wise Oracle?" Jason said with an impudent grin. "Or are we all done with the sermon?"

Meriones couldn't hold back a startled laugh at the young man's cheeky response. Jason gave his own faint chuckle in response, holding his ribcage tightly.

Hercules returned to the room frowning with the bottle of tonic in his hand.

"What's got you two so amused?" he asked.

His two companions looked at each other and grinned again.

"You know what, I don't think I want to know," Hercules grunted. "Sorry I took so long in there. You knocked the bottle off the table when you fell out of bed and it took me a while to find it. It had rolled under the bed and your dratted cat was patting it back and forth."

"Sorry," Jason apologised.

Hercules waved off his apology easily, poured out a dose of the tonic and handed it to the young man.

"So why did you drop by this morning?" he asked Meriones.

"As I told you I came to check on the well-being of my friends," Meriones answered. "Although I did wish to talk to you about the trouble in the city."

"You mentioned trouble before," Hercules noted.

"Indeed," Meriones said.

"What sort of trouble?" Jason interjected, his eyes sharp.

Hercules turned and glared.

"You should be drinking that tonic and then getting back to bed," he admonished. Then he turned back to Meriones. "What sort of trouble?"

He deliberately ignored Jason's pointed sigh and eye roll.

"It was primarily for this reason that I have come to visit you old friend," Meriones hurried on. "I have contacts who will sell me essential supplies without needing to encounter the chaos that I fear the agora will become. I wished to give you their details for when you need to purchase your own supplies."

"Meriones what are you talking about?" Hercules interrupted testily.

"You have not heard then?" Meriones murmured.

"Heard what?" Hercules asked.

"A proclamation was issued by the Palace at sunrise this morning," Meriones said softly.

"I've only just got back from work. I was there until sometime after sunrise and came straight home without stopping to listen to gossip."

"My friends," Meriones rumbled, "the proclamation said that King Anaxandros of Amphigeneia has basely broken the peace treaty set out by his father and King Aeson's father and has taken advantage of the weakness caused to the city by the recent pestilence. Even now his forces approach. King Minos has bid us all to prepare for a siege."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thank you all _so_ much for your lovely reviews. I read each one with real pleasure.

Only two weeks to go now until the second series!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter - please read and review.

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><p>Pythagoras opened his eyes slowly, stretched cat-like and smiled at the ceiling. He had slept well – very well in fact – and felt decidedly better for it. His chest seemed less tight than it had just yesterday and he felt much stronger than he had in some time. His smile widened. He was getting better, he could feel it. Perhaps he could even get out of bed for a short while today and he just knew that somewhere there was a triangle with his name on it just waiting to be investigated. A soft sound from somewhere to the side made him pause. Then he remembered that Hercules had temporarily moved Jason into his room so that they could keep each other company while neither of them was really up to moving around very much.<p>

Not that Jason had ever allowed a little thing like being hurt or ill to stop him from going where he wanted before – much to the chagrin of his friends. Pythagoras sighed at the thought. He had a horrible feeling that Hercules was expecting _him_ to keep an eye on Jason and stop their dark haired friend from getting up and over-exerting himself when he was supposed to be on bed rest. Pythagoras worried that that might be a nigh on impossible task. It was hard enough for him to pin Jason down when the young genius was fully fit and healthy so to ask him to do it when he was weak and convalescing was, he felt, more than a little unfair.

"Are you alright?" Jason asked softly.

Pythagoras turned to face his friend. Jason had propped himself up in bed and was reading a scroll that he'd obtained from somewhere. He was at least doing as he was told for the moment and keeping his feet up, his knee elevated slightly with blankets. Pythagoras smiled.

"I am fine," he said.

Jason raised his eyebrows.

"You sighed," he pointed out. "That's not something that people usually do when they're fine."

"I was just thinking," Pythagoras responded.

"Careful," Jason said, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "that might be dangerous."

"Very funny," Pythagoras retorted primly. "I am not Hercules," he paused and looked around. "Where is he by the way? I had thought that with both of us stuck in bed he would be hovering."

"Not that he worries of course," Jason added with an open grin.

"Of course not." Pythagoras grinned back.

They met each other's eyes and chuckled lightly. Despite his protestations to the contrary Hercules openly worried about them both.

"You didn't answer my question," Pythagoras said, still smiling.

Jason blinked

"I think he's sleeping," he answered. "At least I hope he's sleeping. He _was_ working all night."

Pythagoras frowned.

"I had forgotten," he admitted.

"He made sure I knew that I wasn't allowed to move from here before he went to bed," Jason said wryly. "He even hid those crutches to make sure I couldn't move too far… not that I really want to get out of bed right now anyway."

Pythagoras' frown deepened. It was unlike Jason to want to stay in bed and that worried him slightly.

"You are still in pain?" he asked anxiously.

"Nah," Jason answered. "Not at the moment." He rolled his eyes at Pythagoras' sceptical look. "Hercules insisted on dosing me up with painkillers before he went to bed. I feel better than I did yesterday. I mean… yes I am pretty sore and achy, and still a bit stiff, but it's not too bad if I don't try to move around – my knee starts throbbing whenever I move too much… Actually to be honest lying back against a nice soft mattress is pretty much all I really want to be doing right now. I think it's probably going to be the most comfortable place for a couple of days."

Pythagoras nodded, looking appraisingly at his friend. Jason did look better than he had yesterday and did not appear to be in too much discomfort so the mathematician was content for the moment. He glanced at the stool that Hercules had set up between the two beds. At some point the Tilia board had been taken away and a couple of cups put onto it along with a jug of water. The cup nearest to himself was full.

Jason followed his eyes and smiled slightly.

"Hercules left your tonic on there," he said. "Apparently he didn't trust me not to get up and try to get it for you again… I did try to tell him that I had no intention of doing that but he said it was safer if he got it ready and left it there for you."

Pythagoras nodded as he took and drained the cup. He couldn't help thinking that Hercules was right. However much Jason protested that he wouldn't have moved from the bed, Pythagoras knew that his friend would have tried to ignore his own pain if he believed that the well-being of a friend was at stake and would not have hesitated to get up to fetch the tonic.

"What are you reading?" he asked, looking at the scroll Jason had discarded on his lap.

"Something that Hercules dredged up about monsters," Jason answered. "I don't know where he found it but he said he thought it would keep me out of mischief while you were still asleep."

Pythagoras dreaded to think where Hercules had obtained the scroll. Over the years he had found it was best not to ask where some of the items in the big man's collection had come from. Certainly Hercules did not read out of choice (although the young genius knew that he _could_ read – if not especially fluently) so _why_ he had this parchment was a mystery.

"Is it interesting?" Pythagoras asked.

"It's not bad" Jason responded. He favoured Pythagoras with an almost shy smile. "I've always liked reading," he confessed. "I used to spend a lot of time reading back where I come from."

Pythagoras filed that little snippet away to mull over later. He was always more than willing to lap up any information that helped him to understand his strange friend better.

The two young men lapsed into friendly silence. Jason returned to his reading and Pythagoras watched him for a little while before resting back against his own pillows, allowing his mind to wander freely. The day was dull enough that the young mathematician half wished that the lanterns were lit and briefly wondered how Jason was managing to read without straining his eyes. Then, inevitably, his mind turned towards mathematics and geometry. He sighed in frustration. Before his illness his ideas had been flowing so freely; the leaps he had made had come so naturally that he really couldn't see how no-one had come up with these theories before. Now though his body was betraying him; was still too weak to really let him concentrate properly. It was all rather annoying. Tired of his own inability to think as clearly as he would like he turned back to stare at Jason speculatively.

Feeling his friend's eyes on him Jason looked up and shifted awkwardly. He had never been comfortable with being the object of anyone's scrutiny.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"I wish to check your injuries," Pythagoras said firmly. "If nothing else I would like a look at your leg… and then, if you did not mind, perhaps we could play a game? I am growing rather bored."

Jason looked slightly confused.

"I don't think you can check me over from there," he pointed out, "and Hercules will skin me alive if I try to get out of bed."

"Quite," Pythagoras said. "However I am feeling much stronger today and am perfectly able to come to you."

The young blonde slowly swung his legs out of bed and sat on the side for a minute, reaching for one of the folded blankets at the bottom of the bed.

"Pythagoras I'm not sure that's a good idea," Jason ventured.

"Unlike you I know when I am in danger of over-exerting myself," Pythagoras answered with some asperity. "There is no risk at the moment and I feel too well to stay in bed. Besides it will be far easier to play a game if we are closer to one another."

He pushed himself to his feet and took three or four unsteady steps towards Jason, looking for all the world like a new-born baby fawn taking its first steps. Jason bit his lip and watched him wobble over, holding his breath and unable to speak in case he somehow caused the mathematician to lose his concentration and fall. Carefully Pythagoras lowered himself to sit on the side of the bed, beaming at his own success. He pulled the blanket around his own shoulders and turned to Jason.

"There," he said, "you were worrying over nothing."

Jason frowned deeply.

"If I'd done that you'd have yelled at me," he accused.

"Probably," Pythagoras admitted, "but I knew what I was doing. Now will you let me look?"

Jason sighed and slowly pulled himself forward. He grunted as his ribcage pulled painfully and started to pant slightly from the discomfort he was feeling. Before he could stretch any further he found a hand on his shoulder, restraining him from moving any more. He looked across at Pythagoras to find the young genius watching him, his blue eyes brimming with concern.

"Lie back," Pythagoras instructed, "and breathe." His eyes took on an accusatory glint. "You told me you were not in pain," he said.

"I'm not," Jason protested. "I've got a bit of discomfort when I move and I'm more stiff than anything, but it's really not that bad."

"Hmm," Pythagoras said, his lips pursed. He leant forwards and carefully rolled up his friend's trouser leg, easing it over the knee. Then he unwound the strapping from around Jason's leg and gently began to inspect the limb, probing delicately with long sensitive fingers. He smiled and relaxed, re-strapping his friend's leg securely.

"This is much better," he said happily. "It is much less swollen than it was. Keeping your leg elevated has helped." He raised an eyebrow and looked seriously at Jason. "You must keep following orders though. The doctor was right. An injury of this nature can be serious if it is not treated properly. Your knee will be weak for a while. If you try to walk on it too soon you could do irreparable damage – could end up crippling yourself – could tear the connective tissues. Cold compresses should help the swelling to go down more – I will ask Hercules to help – once that has happened warm compresses should prevent your knee from becoming too stiff. Once the swelling has gone down you should start some gentle stretching but that will not be for a few days yet. For now bed rest is by far the best option – at least until those ribs have begun to heal."

Jason rolled his eyes.

"I know," he answered, "and trust me I have absolutely no intention of doing anything but lying here and being comfortable for the next couple of days."

"Good," Pythagoras said. "Now when did you last eat?"

Jason rolled his eyes again.

"Not you too," he grumbled. "Hercules has been trying to force food on me every couple of hours. He's nagging worse than ever."

"Are you really surprised?" Pythagoras asked. "You did not eat for days and you are in this current mess because of that. Hercules is worried that is all."

Jason sighed.

"I know," he admitted, "and I am sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone."

"I know," Pythagoras said. He smiled. "Now as I am not tired at the moment would you like to play a round of knucklebones?"

"Alright," Jason agreed, flashing a bright smile.

Pythagoras pulled the stool over to give them a flat surface that they could both reach and dipped inside his blanket for a small pouch that he had picked up before coming over.

They were on their third round when Jason stopped and looked at Pythagoras thoughtfully.

"What is wrong?" the mathematician asked, pausing mid throw.

"Nothing," his companion answered. "I was just wondering… who was King Aeson?"

Pythagoras stared at his friend for a moment.

"Where did you hear that name?" he asked as casually as he could manage.

"Meriones was here earlier and he was talking about some treaty that's been broken that was made in the time of King Aeson's father. I didn't like to ask who he was. Hercules already thinks I'm stupid as it is. Was King Aeson Minos' father?"

"No," Pythagoras sighed. "It is a little more complicated than that." He put the knucklebones down on the stool and turned to face Jason fully. "King Aeson was King before Minos but he was not his father. This is twenty-three or twenty-four years ago now. Minos was one of the nobility but he was not a member of the royal family. Aeson had been king for a few years and was married to the Queen; to Pasiphae. There was a coup at the Palace… a civil war. I am told it was a dark time. Atlantis was in turmoil; father fought son and brother fought brother. There was bloodshed everywhere. King Minos won in the end and King Aeson disappeared... most people thought he was dead but no-one really knows what happened to him." He paused again. "What treaty was Meriones talking about?"

"The treaty between Atlantis and Amphigeneia," Hercules' voice rumbled from the doorway. He raised an eyebrow and looked sternly at his two young friends. "I'm glad to see you're actually doing what you're told for once," he said to Jason, "but what exactly do you think you're doing up?" He turned to Pythagoras.

"The doctor said I could begin to get up when I felt well enough," Pythagoras stated reasonably. "I feel so much better this morning that I did not think it would do me any harm to be out of bed for a short while."

His argument would perhaps have worked a little better if he had not ended with a bout of coughing. Hercules glared.

"I will return to bed the instant I feel tired," Pythagoras argued, "but for now it is better for my lungs to be sitting upright and I brought a blanket to ensure that I did not grow cold."

Hercules sighed. Much as he was itching to swoop in and pop Pythagoras back into bed he had to admit that the lad was a gifted healer and would know what the best course of action with regards to his own treatment was.

"Did you sleep well?" Jason asked, trying to divert the conversation away from what he was worried was about to turn into an argument between his friends.

"I slept alright," Hercules conceded. He sat down on the stool that the two young men had been using as a table.

Pythagoras frowned.

"Going back to what we were talking about," he began, "who has broken the treaty between Atlantis and Amphigeneia?"

"King Anaxandros," Hercules answered shortly. "Apparently he's decided that with Atlantis being weakened by plague, now would be a good time to invade. According to Meriones the King issued a proclamation this morning to tell everyone to make ready for a siege."

Pythagoras gasped and turned to his burly friend with wide eyes.

"A siege?" he repeated.

"Yes," Hercules said. He looked at his two friends. "I'll nip out in a bit and get some supplies – just in case – but it shouldn't affect us too much."

"Not affect us?" Pythagoras repeated incredulously. "There is an army heading our way intent on invading the city and you say it will not affect us?"

"Well not at first anyway," Hercules said. "I know things might get a bit tougher later but right now all you need to be worrying about is getting better."

"But if Anaxandros' army should get past the walls there will be fighting in the streets," Pythagoras fretted.

"The walls are pretty thick though," Jason pointed out. "I don't think anyone would get past them that quickly."

"We have always managed to get into and out of the city easily enough even when it has been locked down," Pythagoras stated.

"Yeah but we're not an invading army," Jason argued. "There's only three of us. It'd be a lot harder for an army – even the city guards couldn't fail to spot that many men."

"There's no point worrying yet anyway," Hercules rumbled. "Anaxandros' army is nowhere near the city yet and there's always a chance they'll turn back. Even if they don't it could be a week or two until they get here – plenty of time for making preparations."

"I suppose so," Pythagoras finally agreed, his brow still furrowed with concern.

Hercules looked appraisingly at his companions. He would have suggested that they should return to their game but Pythagoras looked far too worked up for that. A distraction was in order then. He settled back more comfortably on the stool.

"Did I ever tell you the story of how I captured the Erymanthian Boar?" he asked.

Pythagoras rolled his eyes.

"Yes," he said flatly.

"Well I haven't heard it," Jason objected.

Hercules smiled.

"Funny story actually," he said watching both his friends settle in to hear the tale. "It all started when I went out for a drink with my old friend Pholus..."

* * *

><p>Minos rolled his neck painfully and frowned deeply. It had been a difficult day. There was little doubt now that Anaxandros of Amphigeneia intended to invade; that he was taking advantage of what he saw as both Atlantis' and Minos' weakness to breach the peace treaty laid down by his father so many years ago. Minos vaguely remembered Anaxandros' father, Hagnon. He had been a nice old man as far as the King recalled, who had believed that peace would be far more profitable for his isolated city state than war. Hagnon had dreamed of a day when Amphigeneia was a trading hub and had viewed Atlantis as a valuable potential trading partner. His treaty with Aeson's father, Cretheus, had ended centuries of turmoil and decades of open warfare between their kingdoms.<p>

Hagnon's son, Anaxandros, was a completely different proposition however. Arrogant and cruel with a burning jealousy of his richer neighbours and was deeply ashamed of what he saw as his father's capitulation to Cretheus. He had no interest in trade and was grasped by a fervent ambition to expand the borders of his kingdom.

He had always been difficult to deal with but had never before gone so far as to breach the peace treaty, fearing both the power of Atlantis and the stigma attached to being an oath breaker. Now though, with Atlantis' perceived weakness, he had decided to make his move and try to stake a claim for the city itself. It was a bold and dangerous move.

Minos sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The latest reports indicated that Anaxandros' force was at least a week and a half away from reaching Atlantis and he had despatched messengers to his fellow King to try to prevent the inevitable bloodshed that would occur if Anaxandros could not be diverted from his current course. Not that he held out much hope that his overtures would be successful. Anaxandros had never been known for being particularly reasonable and he had clearly bided his time; picking his moment carefully. Minos had therefore issued his decree to the population to prepare them for a siege and had sent further messengers to the settlements and farms surrounding Atlantis to warn them of what was to come and to invite the occupants to retreat to the safety of the city. It was all being done just in case of an attack, but Minos felt that given the nature of his opponent it was a prudent move. By the time the envoys sent to Anaxandros returned it would be too late to make any preparations.

In this, however, Minos had had to fight his own advisors. Kephalon in particular had been most vocal in his disapproval, feeling that the proclamation would cause unnecessary panic and that Anaxandros would be sure to see reason in the end. He had never openly argued with his King of course but his disapproval had been clear and he had made sure to make increasingly vocal alternative suggestions at every turn. Kephalon had also objected to the idea of opening the city to refugees from the surrounding countryside too. He had argued that the city would not be able to support the influx of people and that it would put an unnecessary strain on the economy. Minos had been adamant however and had been backed to the hilt by Pasiphae.

The King smiled at the thought. The Queen had instantly grasped what the councillors had not – that preparing the people for the worst now would mean that there would be less panic at the crucial moment. It would be disastrous if the streets were full of panicking citizens at the moment when Anaxandros finally attacked. Pasiphae had advised caution; had suggested quietly preparing for the siege and informing their allies of the latest developments. Kephalon had openly objected, saying that it would make Atlantis appear weak. Minos smiled again at the memory of Pasiphae's reaction. She had remained calm and cool in the face of Kephalon's bluster, reminding him that they were not asking anyone for aid and would certainly appear weaker if the city fell through lack of preparation. She had been utterly reasonable but extremely icy and there were few who would challenge her in that mood. Minos appreciated her strength, her calm reserve and her sharp political mind perhaps even more than her grace and beauty. If she had only been born a man… Gods what a King she would have made!

As if thinking about her had summoned her, Pasiphae quietly let herself into the room behind Minos. The King turned to look at her, taking in her upright carriage and graceful movements with a smile. How he loved this woman; their long years together dropping away as he watched her coming towards him.

"You look tired," she said gently.

"I am," Minos acknowledged. "It has been a long day."

"Do not worry My Lord," Pasiphae responded. "Anaxandros will come to realise the folly of his actions soon enough."

"I am not worried. The city will stand, of that I am sure. There are a great many things to prepare though; things that only the King can deal with it seems."

Pasiphae moved to a table and looked down at the almost empty wine amphora with a soft frown. Quickly summoning a servant, she sent the girl off to replenish the supply and bring some other items she required with a few sharp words – making sure that the servant understood that the Queen was displeased to find that the table had not been replenished automatically and that she would be making enquiries to find out who had been shirking their duties. The serving girl had gone grey at the reprimand. Everyone knew that the Queen was not a person to cross and to risk an official reprimand from her was to flirt with danger.

"I have sent for some food," Pasiphae told Minos firmly. "You need to eat My Lord. You will need your strength in the days to come."

"You are too good to me," responded Minos. "It is at times like these that I am most reminded that I do not know what I would do if you were not at my side."

He paused as the unfortunate serving girl stumbled back in carrying a heavy tray laden with food, wine and sweet smelling herbs. She cowered under the dark glare Pasiphae levelled in her direction, knowing that the prospects for avoiding an official reprimand were slim. Having put her burden down on the table she sighed silently in relief. Perhaps the Queen would not say anything in front of the King. She ventured a look at her angry mistress and her heart plummeted again.

"Inform the servants responsible for cleaning and supplying the area around the royal quarters that I will see them in the west chamber shortly," Pasiphae's voice was frigid, "oh, and make sure that you are with them. I would hate to have to repeat myself more than once."

Once the girl had removed herself from the room, already trembling in anticipation and on the verge of tears, the Queen turned to the tray and began to crush some of the herbs with her fingers, adding them to a cup of wine which she poured from a jug. Mixture made she walked purposefully towards her husband, holding out the goblet to him. Minos took the drink and looked into it thoughtfully, before placing it down on the table and returning to the parchment he had been trying to read.

"My Lord," Pasiphae said, "the drink will remove your headache and help you to concentrate. If you do not want wine then I will get you something else, but the herbs it contains will be beneficial to you."

Minos smiled and picked up the goblet, sipping at it.

"It is most welcome," he admitted. "Although I feel the weight of the crown lying on me as never before. Is this what Aeson felt, I wonder, when I made my play to take the throne?" He sighed.

"Minos you must not allow these dark and morbid thoughts to weaken you now. My former husband would never have worried so much. Noble Aeson could not envisage a world where he was not universally loved." Pasiphae spat the words "noble Aeson" with as much sarcasm and vitriol as she could manage. "You are tired and prey to these dark thoughts because of it. Come and eat my love… and then rest for a while. There is nothing so pressing that it cannot wait until you have regained your strength… and everything you do will be better for it."

"Perhaps the gods punish me," Minos murmured. "First the contagion and now this invasion. Perhaps they were angered by everything we did to take the throne."

"The gods do not punish you," Pasiphae responded sharply. "Anaxandros is an ambitious man. You know this. He has long looked for a way to expand his own domain and ensure the downfall of Atlantis. But come, enough of this, let us eat together and enjoy one another's company… at least for a little while." Her tone and her eyes softened.

Minos smiled softly and allowed Pasiphae to draw him to his feet and lead him to a low couch in the corner of the room.

"You are right as always, my love," he said gently. "I do not know what I would do if I lost you."

Pasiphae smiled as she laid herself down on an adjoining couch. It had only been a few short months ago that she had been prepared to murder the man alongside her in her quest for power and yet it seemed he was still to be useful to her. Part of her knew that she should despise him and yet they had been comfortable together for many years now, she mused. She did not love him – she never had – but in spite of herself she found that there was still affection left. It had been buried deep within the heart that she had tried to harden and deny for so many years now, but was slowly creeping up on her, surprising her when she least expected it. It was all Jason's fault – this sudden overabundance of feeling. Her obsession with her son was going much too far and making her weak; prey to other needless emotions. And yet she yearned for him in a way that she would never have believed to be possible.

With the threat of a siege hanging over the city she could not help but worry. True she had seen for herself that the boy had come through the recent plague unscathed but now he would be trapped in a city under siege; a city whose streets would become increasingly dangerous; a city that could well begin to starve if the situation went on long enough. And there was no way that she could help him; no way that she could bring him to the safety of the Palace or ensure that he had enough food; no way that when the call to arms came (as it would for every able bodied man soon enough) that she could prevent him from being gathered up with the rest of the citizenry and expected to fight. Stifling a sigh Pasiphae poured herself a goblet of wine and lay back, still deep in thought. She looked up to see Minos watching her thoughtfully.

"You are worried," he said softly.

"Not about Anaxandros," Pasiphae answered firmly. "I was merely thinking… Many of the young men who will be expected to fight if the Amphigeneians should attack are little more than boys. No older than my son… it hardly seems fair that they should be asked to die for their city when they have hardly had chance to live."

"It is as it has always been my love," Minos argued. "The young have always taken the forefront of any battle. They will be defending their homes and they will do it willingly."

"I know," Pasiphae answered.

"It is more than that though, is it not?" Minos asked shrewdly.

Pasiphae narrowed her eyes. She had given away more of herself than she had intended. Perhaps that would not be such a bad thing, however. Minos had not appeared to be particularly against the idea of her son still being alive when they had spoken yesterday. A little risk now might pay dividends in the future.

"I have spoken to the Oracle," she said softly.

Minos tensed.

"And what did she say of the future?" he asked. "What of the future of the city?"

"She did not speak of the future of the city," Pasiphae said. "She told me that the rumours that I quashed all those years ago were right; my son _is_ alive."

Minos froze.

"She told you this?" he asked slowly.

"Yes," Pasiphae confirmed. "She told me that he thrives. I asked her why she had not told me before and she answered that it had been her duty to protect him," she added bitterly.

"Did she tell you where he was?" Minos demanded, his face incredulous.

"She told me that he was not far away and that our paths would run as one," Pasiphae answered. "It appears that he has no idea of who he really is; of the fact that I am his mother."

Minos watched his wife; watched the sorrow and hope playing across her features. Much as he feared the consequences of her son being alive – feared that the boy would desire the throne and would try to take it from him – he could not begrudge her the hope that she might regain the child she had lost. How many people were given that chance after all? If the boy challenged him then that was a bridge they would have to cross. For now, however, the King would try to please his wife; would try to make her happy and share in her joy at finding her child once more.

"We will find him my love," he promised.

"And what then?" Pasiphae asked. "Whatever happened between you and I and his father, he is innocent in all of this."

"I will do nothing to harm the boy," Minos promised. "If he does not threaten me then I will see no harm come to him."

"Thank you," Pasiphae answered. This was going better than she had ever dared to hope. True, Minos was not ready to learn Jason's identity yet nor to accept the lad fully, but the groundwork had been laid. She reached forward and plucked some fruit from a bowl, noting that Minos finally began to eat as well.

They ate for a while in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Presently though a knock at the door drew the attention of them both and they turned as one as Ariadne let herself in.

The Princess looked a little tired Pasiphae noticed, trying hard not to gloat. It appeared that Ariadne had not been sleeping well for some time and she thought she knew the reason why. It was the same reason that kept her awake at nights too: Jason. He had begun to intrude into both their thoughts far too much, although the Queen had a feeling that he had been in Ariadne's thoughts ever since his arrival in Atlantis.

"Father," Ariadne greeted the King.

"Ariadne," Minos acknowledged her presence with a smile.

"Father I need to talk to you," the girl said in her clear, high voice.

"What is it you wish to say my child?" her father asked.

"I wish to resume my duties at the Temple in the morning."

Minos sucked in a breath.

"That will not be possible, Ariadne," he said firmly.

"Father you said that once the threat of the plague was passed I could return to my duties," Ariadne objected.

"I did," Minos admitted, "and I meant it… but the situation has changed. Even without the threat of contagion it is too dangerous for you to visit the Temple. With Anaxandros threatening to invade I would not have you leaving the Palace. I would go out of my mind with worry if there were to be any risk to you. You are the most precious thing in my life and I will not risk your well-being for anything."

"But surely we must ask the gods for help," argued Ariadne. "Now more than ever I should resume my duties. If the people see me then perhaps they will be less afraid."

"Ariadne," Minos began.

"My Lord," Pasiphae swept in quickly, "Ariadne is correct. Above all things we must maintain order; must maintain calm. If the people see us going about our regular duties they will believe that we are unafraid; that we are not worried about this upstart Anaxandros; that everything is as normal. There will be less panic that way. Allow your daughter to resume her duties until such time as Anaxandros draws near the city and do not encumber her with extra guards. You will see that it is for the best."

Ariadne shot a quick look at her stepmother, unsure of the game the Queen was playing but willing to go along with her for the time being.

Minos frowned deeply.

"This is what you sincerely believe?" he asked Pasiphae.

"It is My Lord," Pasiphae responded smoothly.

"Very well," Minos sighed. "It shall be as you say. Ariadne may resume her duties tomorrow." He turned to his daughter with a hard look. "If the danger increases I will not hesitate to confine you to the Palace though."

"Of course," Ariadne murmured. "I will abide by your wishes."

Minos stood and took his daughter in his arms, smiling. He placed a kiss against her forehead.

"It is late," he said, "and you appear tired. You should retire to your chambers for the night."

"I will," answered Ariadne, "Good night Father."

"I love you more than _anything_," Minos said hugging the girl.

"And I you," Ariadne answered.

It had become a ritual between them to bid one another goodnight in this way.

"I shall bid you goodnight also My Lord," Pasiphae said, coming to her feet. "I have need to have words with the servants before I retire. They will be awaiting me in the West chamber."

Minos nearly winced. He had no doubt that the servants would be thoroughly chastened when next he saw them.

"You are tired also," Pasiphae continued. "You should retire for the night My Lord. There is nothing of such urgency that it cannot wait until the morning."

The King smiled.

"You are right," he said. "I will retire as you suggest. Good night my love."

Once the two women were outside the door Ariadne grabbed her stepmother's arm.

"Why did you support me?" she hissed suspiciously.

Pasiphae smiled coldly.

"We should not always fight Ariadne," she murmured. "If only for the sake of your father we should at least try to get along."

"That's not the real reason," Ariadne answered. "You have some other motive."

Pasiphae looked down the corridor beyond the girl. They were alone. The Queen sighed in exasperation.

"You wish to make sure that he is well, yes?" she said, her tone all business. She did not feel the need to clarify who _he_ was knowing full well that Ariadne would know exactly who she meant.

"I do not know what you mean," Ariadne responded stiffly. "I merely wish to resume my duties at the Temple and to pray to the gods for the safety of the city and its people."

"Do not take me for a fool!" Pasiphae retorted. "You wish to ensure that Jason was not harmed by the contagion."

Ariadne looked at her mutely, unwilling to give the Queen the satisfaction of agreeing with her.

"I wish for the same thing," Pasiphae went on, "but unlike you I can hardly ask him myself. I will help you to see him and I ask only that you bring me news of him."

"You are worried," Ariadne murmured wonderingly. It seemed completely alien to her for Pasiphae to care about anything other than power.

"Of course I am worried you silly girl," the Queen snapped. "He is my son."

It was strange for Ariadne. She had grown so used to seeing the power hungry manipulative Queen of Atlantis and yet over the last two months the sorrowful mother had appeared more and more often. There were times when she almost felt sorry for Pasiphae. Mentally she shook herself. This would not do. She could not really afford to let her guard down where Pasiphae was concerned and her own pity for the woman meant that she was in danger of doing just that. Still there was not harm in doing as her stepmother asked on this occasion. She smiled faintly.

"I will bring you news of him," she promised. "But I am doing this for Jason."

"Of course," Pasiphae responded. "Now I think you should retire for the night before your father comes out and finds us here. It would spell disaster if he were to find out about Jason prematurely."

"Very well," Ariadne answered. "Good night."

"Good night Ariadne," Pasiphae said.

She watched the girl make her way down the corridor to her own quarters and smiled. Everything was going to plan. Soon Jason would be at her side and she would have the keys to ultimate power.

* * *

><p>Princess Ariadne paced the floor of the Temple restlessly. Her father had been as good as his word and for two days now she had been allowed to come and go as she pleased, unmolested and unchallenged. Knowing that Jason tended to visit the Oracle at times of trouble and having met him here several times in the past Ariadne had lurked around the Temple in the hope of seeing him. Surely if there was ever a time for him to visit the Oracle it would be now? Yet she had seen neither hide nor hair of the young man and by the third morning she was growing increasingly fretful. In spite of the risks it presented it seemed that she would have to go and seek him out herself; that she would have to go to his home. That in itself was not a problem as far as Ariadne was concerned but she would need to be careful so as not to alert the guards. She could not risk her father finding out where she was going after all. Given that Minos had banned her from ever seeing Jason again she did not think he would take too kindly to her rebellion and the bulk of any punishment would quite obviously fall upon Jason. She would need to be both sneaky and cautious.<p>

"Something troubles you My Lady?" Melas' resonant voice sounded from behind her.

Ariadne turned, startled. Whilst the chief priest's presence was not unexpected she had not heard him approach.

"No," she answered. It sounded weak and untruthful even to her own ears.

Melas simply looked at her, his eyes kind but firm.

Ariadne sighed.

"It's Jason," she admitted. "I had hoped to see him here. He usually visits the Oracle when trouble comes doesn't he? I have waited for two days but he has not come. I have not seen him for some time; not since before the disease gripped the city. I have feared for him."

"Jason has not felt the need to visit the Oracle for some time," Melas said quietly. "I have prayed for him and for his friends."

Ariadne smiled weakly and grasped his hand.

"Thank you," she said simply.

"You are not the only one who cares for Jason," the priest said gently. "He is a young man who easily inspires loyalty – even though I believe that he himself is unaware of it."

"With Anaxandros' forces approaching the city and the threat of an invasion I fear for Jason more than ever," Ariadne fretted. "I know him too well to believe that he will not join the fight. I worry that the gods will not look favourably upon him."

"I am not the Oracle," Melas murmured, "but Jason has greater strengths than you know."

"Still," Ariadne said, "I wish there was some way I could make sure that he is well; that his friends are well. I owe all three of them a debt."

Melas smiled kindly.

"In that I believe I may be of some assistance," he said. "If anyone should ask I shall tell them that you are consulting the Oracle. You will not be able to stay long with Jason but it might give you the time you need to reassure yourself of his well-being."

Ariadne smiled properly, grateful for Melas' kindness.

"Thank you," she said again, drawing the hood of her cloak up over her head and looking around carefully to make sure that there was no-one nearby to note either her presence or her departure. With one swift movement she turned and hurried across the Temple, heading for the great front doors and the street beyond.

* * *

><p>Hercules came out of his bedroom, stretching and yawning. The rumble in his belly told him that it was about time he had something to eat. Working nights was easier when he had someone to share the load with but neither one of his friends was really in a fit state to be helping him at the moment. Things were definitely looking up though, he mused.<p>

Pythagoras grew stronger every day and was beginning to resume his daily activities. He still had a cough and looked even paler than usual but he was regaining a little weight (thanks largely to Hercules nagging him to eat). It was true that he tired easily but would take himself off for a rest with no persuasion necessary. Pythagoras at least knew the benefits of resting and not over taxing himself while he convalesced.

Having the two lads recovering in the same room had been a good move. They had kept each other company nicely and stopped each other from becoming too bored. Even though Pythagoras had begun to get up for short periods a couple of days ago, rapidly gaining strength and stamina, Jason had been stuck in bed for the last three days. Hercules had expected to have a fight with his strong-willed friend; had expected Jason to try to sneak out of bed at every available opportunity; had expected the young man to argue against the restrictions put on his movements. He had been completely thrown by the lad's acquiescence. Far from arguing Jason had actually been completely docile and compliant and, apart from the occasional visit to the latrine (which never seemed to get any less embarrassing for the lad) had seemed happy to stay put in bed. It seemed deeply out of character for someone as active and independent as Jason and had begun to worry both his friends, with Pythagoras trying to check him for fever on several occasions only to have his hands batted away with a laugh and a "gerroff" – which Hercules had taken to mean "leave me alone". Jason had admitted to being a bit too sore to want to move around too much and to being more comfortable in bed than anywhere else but Hercules couldn't help but worry about how quiet he seemed.

Now that he thought about it though Jason had been growing increasingly quiet over the last few weeks, although he _had_ sought out the company of his friends far more often. The burly wrestler frowned. The young man was not withdrawn – not the way he had been after Alektryon's attack a couple of months ago – and yet he seemed to drift off into daydreams a lot more often now. Perhaps he always had though and it was just the first time that Hercules was noticing it. After all Jason used to disappear off for long meandering walks on his own on his moodier days and Pythagoras had always believed that he used those walks to think. Since he had been ill, however, he had stayed much closer to home and with the weather worsening and storms lashing the city he had tended to sit out on the balcony or on the end of his bed and disappear inside his own head rather than wandering aimlessly as he used to. Even after two months Hercules wasn't sure whether he should be grateful that Jason seemed to want their company more often now or worried about the change in his young friend.

At least the doctor had been this morning (arriving early just as Hercules was about to go to bed) and had decided to allow the young man to move about again. Apparently his cracked ribs and twisted knee were healing well and Cinyras had decreed that he was well enough to get out of bed, albeit using crutches until his knee healed a little more and under strict instructions to be careful for the time being. Hercules had half expected Jason to overdo it almost immediately but so far he had done exactly as he was told.

Looking around himself now, the burly wrestler quickly spotted Pythagoras sitting at the kitchen table, his drawing tools and scrolls spread out around him, deep in thought. Hercules smiled affectionately. Pythagoras was essentially a creature of habit. Give him some triangles to look at, a scroll to investigate or a problem to solve and he was happy. Every so often he would give a little cough and his hand would snake out to catch hold of the cup he had placed near himself. If yesterday was anything to go by that cup would contain a gooey mixture of boiled and strained flaxseed and honey. Hercules shuddered. He didn't even want to imagine what it tasted like but if it was doing his young friend some good then he wasn't going to complain.

That just left Jason unaccounted for. Hercules glanced around the room. While the bruising to his other friend's body was fading and while he was undoubtedly far less sore than he had been, he was still stiffening up more easily than normal – particularly when he got cold or grew tired – and the day was far from warm. Hercules frowned and made his way onto the balcony in search of the young man.

Jason was leaning against the edge of the balcony, balancing himself against one of the supporting pillars and staring down into the street below. Hercules' frown deepened as he watched his friend silently, never letting the young man know he was there. Jason looked worried – unhappy even – and he radiated tension. It concerned his big friend. Jason was still not known for voluntarily sharing his problems – had to be pushed into talking about his troubles – but both his friends were now well aware of just how destructive allowing those problems to fester could be. Whether he was willing to admit it or not Jason tended to fare a lot better when one of the others could persuade him to share his burdens. It seemed that today was going to be Hercules' turn.

"Everything alright?" he rumbled.

"Mm," Jason answered noncommittally, never taking his eyes off the street.

Hercules sighed and sidled up next to him. It seemed like it was going to be one of _those_ conversations when drawing any sort of response out of Jason was like pulling teeth.

"I thought you'd be so pleased at being let out of bed that you'd be bouncing off the walls by now," Hercules said neutrally.

"I am pleased," Jason protested. "I was just… thinking… that's all."

"About what?" Hercules asked.

Jason remained silent for a time, still looking out over the street – so long in fact that Hercules began to think that he wouldn't answer at all and started to try to think of another way of getting his friend to talk. Eventually though the young man sighed.

"Everything looks so normal," he murmured softly, "and then you look closer and see how anxious everyone looks."

Hercules' frown deepened even further.

"People are bound to be worried," he agreed. "After all it's not every day that an invading army heads our way."

"I suppose not," Jason answered. He turned to look at Hercules. "Aren't you worried though… just a little bit?"

Hercules looked at his companion seriously. So that was what this was about.

"Of course I am," he rumbled gently. "But I've lived through sieges before – lived through an entire civil war before – and I'm too old a bunny to start panicking now. There's no point borrowing trouble. Either the Amphigeneians will invade or they won't. There's not much we can do about it either way. Best thing we can do right now is stay calm and get ready… just in case."

Jason nodded and attempted a smile, although it had to be said that it was a pale ghost of his normal expression.

"Ok," he said. "I can do that. Like you said there's not much point worrying anyway, is there?"

"None at all," Hercules agreed. "You didn't seem too worried when we talked about it the other day though."

"Pythagoras was worried enough for all of us," Jason answered, his smile growing a little more genuine. "I didn't think it would help anyone if I got too worried too. Besides it would only have upset him even more."

Hercules nodded. In a strange way that made sense. Jason could always be relied on to think of his friends before he thought of himself.

"You've not seen a siege before, I'm taking it?" he asked.

"Hercules I'd never even held a sword before I came to Atlantis."

Hercules nodded again. From the way Jason had held a sword when he first arrived the burly wrestler had suspected as much, although he did have to admit that the lad was an incredibly quick learner.

"I did wonder," he said. "You were pretty useless. Even Pythagoras was better. I think you dropped it more than you held onto it at first."

Jason chuckled, remembering their first practice sessions in the first few weeks after his arrival when the big man had taken it upon himself to teach Jason at least the basics of sword fighting.

"Probably," he agreed.

Hercules grinned back at him, pleased to have raised a smile.

"That's better," he said. "You were beginning to look altogether too miserable for a minute there." He looked hard at his younger friend. "Now I know that doctor cleared you to move about but didn't he say something about taking it easy and not doing too much?"

"Hercules I've hardly been doing a lot," Jason protested. "I've just been standing here and watching the world go by."

"Precisely," Hercules argued. "You've been standing… and if the look on your face was anything to go by, for a while too. It's time you sat yourself back down again. Besides I think it's about time to eat a little something… for all of us," he added with a significant look at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes but smiled.

"Alright," he agreed. "Let's go."

As they turned to go back into the kitchen they both failed to notice the hooded figure making its way purposefully down the street, heading in the direction of their small home.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N So tonight's the night for series 2 to begin! The wait is finally over!

Thank you all for the lovely reviews. Please don't forget to leave me a line or two if you enjoy this chapter too...

* * *

><p>Pythagoras looked up from the table as his two friends approached from the balcony. It was good to be working again even if he did find himself tiring more easily than usual and having to take breaks to rest at the most inopportune moments. He frowned as he spotted Hercules. The burly wrestler was worrying about something no matter how much he might try to hide it. Pythagoras had simply lived with him for too long not to be able to pick up on the signs. The big man was edgy, his worry plainly written in his eyes whenever he looked at his dark haired companion. So that was it then; he was worrying about Jason. Not that that was an unusual occurrence these days. Although he tried to hide it Hercules had been worrying about Jason for the last two months solidly, even if the young man would prefer that he didn't. It was only natural Pythagoras supposed. After all he had spent a fair bit of time worrying about Jason himself in the aftermath of his breakdown, especially on his darkest days. Neither one of them ever wanted to see their friend like that again.<p>

It was therefore with some trepidation that the young genius turned to look at his brunette friend. Jason looked a little tired he noted with a frown. It was possible that he hadn't been sleeping all that well and that this particular bout of insomnia had gone undetected by Pythagoras – even if they were currently sharing a room – given that the mathematician had been spending an awful lot of time asleep as he recovered from his illness. As he watched Jason carefully lowered himself onto a bench, leaning the crutches against the table. He was still moving a lot more slowly and carefully than usual and holding himself a little more stiffly but on the whole was clearly recovering from his fall.

"What?" he asked defensively as he realised he was being watched.

"You have grown cold out there and stiffened up," Pythagoras accused, his frown deepening.

Jason rolled his eyes and sighed.

"It's not too bad," he objected. "I'd have come in sooner if it was."

Both his friends looked at him incredulously. Jason was not known for employing common sense when it came to his own well-being. Without another word Pythagoras slipped into the bedroom and came back with a light blanket which he threw at his friend. Jason caught it deftly although neither of his companions missed the slight wince as his still healing ribs pulled or the slight hiss he couldn't help escaping. Pythagoras glared at him. While he knew it was irrational he almost took injuries to his friends as a personal affront, particularly if said friend was in any sort of discomfort and chose not to say anything – which with Jason was an all too familiar occurrence. Grumbling under his breath he fetched a cup from the shelves and poured one of his favourite herbal remedies into it, banging the cup down on the table in front of Jason almost aggressively.

"Drink," he instructed firmly. "It will help ease any stiffness you have and soothe away any aches and pains."

Jason rolled his eyes again but knew better than to argue – particularly when Hercules was watching him with his arms folded, clearly prepared to back Pythagoras to the hilt. He picked up the cup and drank the contents, pulling a face at the bitter taste as he did.

"Urgh," he grumbled. "What's in that? No wait. Don't tell me. I don't think I want to know."

"It is an infusion of white willow bark, ginger and almond," Pythagoras responded promptly. "I am aware that it is a little sour. Unfortunately willow bark is bitter but it is one of the best painkillers that I know. Perhaps if I were to add some honey or mint to it it would become more palatable."

"I don't think there's anything you could do to make _that_ taste better," Jason answered. "That has to be one of the nastiest things you've ever made me drink… and why am I holding a blanket?" he added.

"It is a cold day and you have stood outside for too long," Pythagoras began.

"Pythagoras," Jason interrupted.

"Jason you look chilled through," Pythagoras continued. "Please. I worry. You seem tired."

Jason mentally winced. He hated worrying his friends – although he still wasn't really sure why they worried about the likes of him. If ever there was anyone that deserved to live a life free from worry it was Pythagoras. Without any more thought of complaining he slipped the blanket around his own shoulders.

"Sorry," he muttered, grabbing Pythagoras' hand. "It is a bit chilly out there but I really am fine. I should have come in sooner but I was thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing important," Jason answered with a quick glance at Hercules. "I was a bit worried about something but a good friend set me straight." He smiled softly at the big man.

"This thing that was worrying you," Pythagoras said, "has it been stopping you from sleeping?"

"No," Jason answered honestly. "The people next door were arguing again last night. I think their son's coming back from Pathmos and Eupalinus didn't sound too happy about it. It kept me awake for a bit that's all."

Pythagoras breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed somewhat. At least Jason's most recent sleepless night had a genuine cause and was not just down to his random insomnia. He smiled at his friend and turned back to his drawings. Before he could lose himself in them again Hercules pointedly cleared his throat.

"Are you going to clear that lot up so we can eat?" Hercules rumbled.

Pythagoras looked at him in some surprise. He hadn't even been aware that Hercules had been preparing a meal and yet the burly wrestler was clearly standing beside a steaming pot of something with a spoon in his hand. Normally the cooking was a task that fell to Pythagoras (and which he enjoyed to be honest) but since his recent illness Hercules seemed to have taken over the kitchen, determined that the young genius should get as much rest as possible. Somewhat abashed the young genius started to clear up his scrolls and drawing equipment as quickly as possible, dropping several things in his haste. More quickly than he would have expected though everything had been shoved inside the leather satchel he used to transport his work back and forth to the library and the satchel itself had been stowed under the table.

Hercules grunted as he deposited the steaming pot of food on the table right in the spot where one of Pythagoras' scrolls had been mere moments before.

"Get that down you," he instructed.

His two companions looked at each other for a minute and then attacked the food with gusto. Hercules smiled benevolently at their enthusiasm, pleased that for once he wasn't having to nag either one of them to eat properly. Then he realised that that might mean he missed out himself and dived in to get his own share. Large portion secured and held protectively, he turned to look at Pythagoras.

"After we've eaten you need to go and get some rest," he proclaimed. "A nap will do you the world of good."

"Hercules," Pythagoras started, preparing to marshal his arguments, "I am at a most crucial stage of my work and I am not at present tired."

"The triangles can wait, Pythagoras. Your health can't," Hercules stated firmly.

"Hercules you are worrying too much. I am perfectly fine and do not need a nap," Pythagoras tried.

Hercules didn't say another word. He just folded his arms and glared at the mathematician.

"You are being unreasonable," Pythagoras complained. "I know my own body better than anyone."

"Now you know how I feel," Jason muttered, half under his breath.

Without changing expression the big man turned and faced his other young companion.

"Don't think you're getting away with it either," he said firmly. "When he goes for a nap I want you in there with him taking the weight off your feet. You've been standing around out there for too long and I'm not having that knee getting worse again because you don't have the sense to know when to sit down."

Jason didn't even bother arguing this time. Much as he hated to admit it Hercules was probably right. His knee _was_ aching again and he couldn't help thinking that it might feel pretty good to put his feet up for a while. He also agreed with his bulky friend on the subject of Pythagoras. The blonde still looked tired and his recent illness was still too fresh in his friends' memories for them not to worry.

"Fair enough," he agreed. "When Pythagoras goes for a nap I'll go with him and put my feet up."

It was a bit of emotional blackmail, Jason knew, but he felt no qualms about it whatsoever. Pythagoras was so kind and gentle that he would never risk _Jason's_ health by his own actions.

The mathematician sucked in a breath.

"That is not fair!" he exclaimed.

His companions exchanged a look. Before either one of them could answer there was a knock at the door. It was a soft, almost hesitant, tapping – as though the person knocking wasn't really sure that they should be. Being nearest to the door Jason automatically moved to push himself to his feet only to find a firm grip on his arm restraining him. The young man looked up, startled, to see Hercules glaring back at him with his eyebrows quirked.

"You stay there," the big man growled. "I'll get the door."

Jason sat back down and exchanged a rueful smile with Pythagoras. To tell the truth he hadn't really thought when he had gone to stand up; had responded to the tap on the door out of habit.

Hercules was still looking at him in exasperation, his hand hovering over the door latch.

Jason blushed slightly.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I forgot."

Hercules shook his head slowly and opened the door. For a moment he stood there with his mouth open and his eyes bulging slightly, not quite believing who was standing on the other side. Jason leant forward with a slight hiss as stretching pulled on his ribs to peer around the frozen Hercules, wondering what had surprised his friend so much. His eyes widened as his own surprise registered.

"Ariadne," he exclaimed with some consternation. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I… have been worried," Ariadne started. "With the recent plague and now the threat of a siege, I wanted to make sure…" Now that she was here her fears sounded childish to her own ears. "I was worried," she finished lamely.

"About me?" Jason asked with surprise. "Why? I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," the young man responded awkwardly.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Ariadne asked quickly.

"Of course," Jason answered.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see Ariadne – of course he did. It was just that he wasn't sure he wanted her to see him in the state he was in at the moment. At least he wasn't stuck in bed pretty much immobile any more though; at least he was up and around. It would have been dreadfully embarrassing to have had Ariadne arrive while he was still too stiff and sore to put his own tunic on; for her to see him in that state – especially since it was essentially his own fault that he had ended up in that position. Not that she hadn't seen Jason in bed before of course – when he had been badly hurt after his disastrous journey to Helios with Dakos, and when he had spent the night in her room after trying to assassinate Pasiphae. But the first time he had still been too ill to care about little things like being embarrassed, and the second had been her suggestion – and one of the most enjoyable nights of his life so far.

"Well then?" Ariadne gently prompted.

"Erm… would you like to come in?" Jason asked, utterly failing in any attempt to be nonchalant.

He'd never really been very good at small talk – particularly when caught unawares. Most of the time he could speak easily to Ariadne, the conversation flowing naturally between them, and he certainly loved listening to her, but occasionally – when she surprised him – he still found himself floundering like a hopeless teenager; flustered and saying the first thing that came into his head to try to get himself through the conversation – usually with embarrassing results.

It really didn't help at the moment that Pythagoras was watching him with interest as though he were a particularly interesting new problem to solve and Hercules was looking on with amusement from the doorway. It wasn't as if either of them were all that smooth, Jason thought irritably. Pythagoras had never really been known to speak to women (unless it was to try to explain his mathematical theories and didn't _that_ go down well with the ladies) and Hercules, whilst he was undoubtedly charming with women, came up with the most ridiculous and fantastic lies and excuses whenever he was caught off guard.

"Listen Ariadne," he tried. "It's not good that you're here… I mean… it's great and everything… but…"

"Don't you want me here?" Ariadne asked sadly. "I have risked much to come."

Jason immediately felt about an inch high.

"It's not that," he said. "It's just… well… I know how much of a risk it is for you and I don't want anything to happen to you and I can't see them being very happy at the Palace if they knew you were here. What would happen if you got caught? Besides we've got a problem with… mice," he improvised badly.

"Mice," Ariadne repeated, looking around with her eyebrow raised. "Where are they then?"

"Err… dunno," Jason laughed awkwardly. "Not here apparently." He cringed to himself when he thought no-one was looking.

"Would you like a drink, My Lady?" Hercules asked solicitously, finally deciding to come to Jason's aid although perhaps not in the way the young man would have liked. "We have wine. Come and sit yourself down and I'll get you some."

One of these days, the big man mused, he really would have to sit both his friends down and have a long chat about the difference between boy-people and girl-people and how, as a man, you spoke to women. It wasn't a task he had ever envisaged having to take on and would undoubtedly be embarrassing for all three of them but he thought it probably needed doing. Half the time Pythagoras didn't seem to be aware that anything other than his blessed triangles existed and Jason… well with Jason's looks (and Hercules was honest enough with himself to acknowledge that the young man was incredibly good looking) he never thought he would need to have the talk with _him_. Yet over the months it had become increasingly apparent to the burly wrestler that Jason had about as much experience of women as he had had of handling a sword when he first arrived in Atlantis. Really it would be doing the lad a kindness to explain things to him. It was fortunate, Hercules supposed, that Ariadne seemed to find Jason's awkwardness endearing.

"It is a little early for me to be drinking wine," Ariadne answered softly. "Perhaps some water?"

"Really?" Hercules said incredulously. "Sit yourself down anyway."

Ariadne smiled softly and made her way around the table, looking about herself in appreciation. The house that Jason shared with his two friends was small and cluttered and more than a little run down but it was warm and cosy and had that indefinable quality that marked it not just as a house but as a home. She could be happy here, she decided, sitting around the table with the three men, listening to their playful banter and sharing in their obvious affection for one another until late in the evening. The other two would slip away at some point and leave her alone with Jason, basking in the warmth of his love. She sighed slightly. It was a pleasant daydream – and one which she indulged in all too frequently – but she knew that under the present circumstances it could not be. Even if Pasiphae succeeded in her goal of reconciling Minos to the existence of her son, Ariadne knew that her father would want Jason to go to the Palace; would not be happy for him to remain living on the edge of poverty in the city; and if he proved unwilling to leave his old life, would certainly never accept Ariadne coming here. And come to that how _would_ Jason react? Would he be willing to leave this life where he was happy with his friends? Would it even be fair of her to ask it of him, even if it was the only way they could be together?

She sighed again and looked around the room for something to distract herself with. Pythagoras, she noted with a frown looked tired and much paler than usual. Perhaps he had been unwell? She made a mental note to ask Jason at some point. If Pythagoras had succumbed to the fever that had gripped the city and was now recovering then perhaps there was something she could do to help. If nothing else she could make arrangements to have extra food delivered – true it had been easier to arrange when Medusa worked in the kitchens but now at least she could call on Pasiphae for help… however much it went against the grain to ask her stepmother for anything. All she would have to do would be to suggest that Jason was going hungry and she had the feeling that his mother would swing into action using Ariadne herself as cover.

With a smile to herself, Ariadne continued to allow her eyes to roam the room. Eventually they came to rest on Jason and her smile widened. Then, of course, almost inevitably they fell on the pair of crutches propped against the table, the top bars peeking over the edge. Jason followed her eyes and grimaced.

"I thought you said you were fine," Ariadne accused.

"I am," Jason answered. "They're not for now, they're for… later." The young brunette cringed to himself again, shaking his head at his own inability to hold a sensible, rational conversation. He resisted the urge to beat his head against the table top.

"_Really_?" Pythagoras murmured incredulously. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Jason sighed.

"Listen Ariadne," his tone became earnest, "I really am alright. I fell down some stairs a few days ago and I've sort of twisted my knee a bit but it's not too bad. I mean yes I'm using crutches at the moment and probably will be for a few days but it's on the mend." He smiled reassuringly. "The doctor's just being cautious."

Hercules snorted as he placed a cup of water in front of the Princess.

Jason shot him an irritated look.

"You really will be alright?" Ariadne asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Jason answered with a grin, flashing his dimples at her unconsciously. "I'm not saying I'd want to repeat the experience – I've never been that big a fan of pain – but I'm a lot better than I was a few days ago. It won't be long until I'm back to normal."

"He really will be alright," Pythagoras chimed in, his expression earnest. "He is not badly injured; just sore. With rest he is healing rapidly. I give you my word." He broke off with a short cough.

Ariadne stared at him seriously.

"And you?" she asked. "Are you also healing rapidly?"

"I'm sorry?" Pythagoras responded. "I do not think I understand."

"You have been unwell," Ariadne asserted. "You are pale and tired. You have had the fever?"

"I have been unwell," Pythagoras agreed, "but I am nearly well now."

Ariadne did not miss the way that both Hercules and Jason tensed. She had a suspicion that Pythagoras had been very ill indeed if their reactions were anything to go by. Now more than ever she was determined to help in any way she could. That basket of food she had been considering would be a good start. Pythagoras clearly needed to build his strength back up and with the threat of a siege food might begin to become scarce in the city. There was plenty in the Palace storerooms, however, and she could ensure that Jason and his friends at least had supplies to see them through the next few weeks.

A sudden flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye caught the Princess' attention. Before she could turn to see what it was it ran towards her and jumped up onto the table.

"Hey," Jason said tapping the kitten on the nose, "you know you're not supposed to be up here when there's food on the table."

Ariadne smiled and reached out to stroke the silky white fur, marvelling at the softness beneath her hand.

"Who's this?" she asked.

"She's Jason's cat," Hercules rumbled.

"You have a cat?" Ariadne asked Jason. "I thought you said you had a problem with mice." Her tone was amused.

Jason looked more awkward and embarrassed than ever – much to Ariadne's amusement.

"You're beautiful," she said to the kitten. "Does she have a name?"

"Isosceles," Pythagoras answered.

"It's a triangle," Jason added, at Ariadne's confused look. "Don't ask. We let Pythagoras name her."

Pythagoras looked slightly hurt.

"I think it is a very good name for her," Ariadne answered, returning to stroking the purring Isosceles. Then she sighed.

"I must return to the Palace soon," she said softly. "I can only 'consult the Oracle' for so long before I am missed and my father would not hesitate to assign extra guards to protect me if he thought it were for my own good."

"Of course," Jason responded. "You should go back before anyone notices you're missing."

"I still have a few moments though," Ariadne stated moving around the table to sit alongside Jason and taking his hand in her own.

Hercules cleared his throat less than subtly and looked hard at Pythagoras, gesturing towards his own room with a jerk of his head, wanting to give his friend a few minutes alone with the woman he loved. Pythagoras looked at him blankly and shook his head in confusion, not understanding in the slightest what the big man was getting at. Hercules shook his head in exasperation and caught hold of the neck of his friend's tunic with one meaty hand, pulling the young man along with him as he marched off. With the other hand he grabbed Isosceles, who squeaked in consternation as she was unceremoniously jerked off her feet.

"Come on Pythagoras," Hercules said jovially. "There's something we need to look at in my bedroom. I think there might be a goat under my bed."

"A goat?" Pythagoras exclaimed as he tried to avoid tripping over his own feet. "_Really_?"

Jason watched them go with amused affection.

"I think that was Hercules' way of giving us some time on our own," he said lightly.

"Yes," Ariadne agreed. "He was hardly being subtle about it."

"Trust me. For Hercules that was subtle," Jason laughed. He turned back to Ariadne, noting the distant expression in her eyes. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I was thinking how much simpler our lives would be if I had not been born the daughter of a King," Ariadne answered softly. "We would be free." She sighed. "I do not know when we will see one another again. In the days to come, with Anaxandros invading, I do not know what will happen."

"I won't let anything happen to you," Jason asserted earnestly. "You do know that don't you?"

Ariadne nodded and reached her hand up to his face.

"Yes," she murmured.

Without even thinking about it she leant forwards, her hand sliding up to tangle in his curls whilst the other came around to rest on his back. Then they were kissing; sweet, stolen kisses full of love and desire. Eventually though they pulled apart, foreheads resting gently against one another as they both fought to catch their breath. Finally Ariadne pulled away.

"I really must go soon," she said reluctantly.

"I know," Jason answered.

"I have been talking too much," the Princess murmured.

"I like listening to you," Jason responded gently.

"I just wish…" Ariadne trailed off with a sigh. Then she pulled herself together with a little shake. "How ill has Pythagoras been?" She asked, changing the subject.

"He nearly died," Jason answered, turning to look towards Hercules' room where he knew his friends were lurking.

"He will need to build his strength back up," the Princess stated firmly. "I am led to believe that there are certain herbs and foods that can help with that. I will arrange for them to be sent from the Palace kitchens."

"You don't have to do that," Jason protested. "We're doing alright. Hercules has got a job at the moment."

"I want to," Ariadne answered. "Your friends have risked their lives for me. I owe them both a great debt. Please, Jason. Allow me to do this one thing for Pythagoras' sake."

"It's too risky," Jason answered. "How would you explain it to your father?"

"Melas will help me as he has done before," Ariadne said. "I will tell my father that I am making an offering at the Temple if he should ask. I will tell him that I am importuning the gods to protect the city from the ravages of the Amphigeneians. If anyone should ask then I am sure Melas will corroborate me story."

"Ariadne…"

"Jason I am going to do this whether you like it or not."

Jason sighed.

"Thank you," he said.

Ariadne smiled softly.

Jason turned and glanced out of the window, noting the darkening clouds outside.

"You should go before another storm breaks," he said.

"Yes," Ariadne answered, "but I think we have a few more minutes." She leant forwards and took Jason's hands in her own again, peering deeply into the warm hazel eyes and marvelling once more that he could be in any way related to the cold and power-hungry Pasiphae.

"Ariadne," Jason murmured. "If you don't go now I think you might end up getting wet and your father might want an explanation given that you're supposed to be safely in the dry at the Temple."

Ariadne gave a rueful laugh, knowing that he was right.

"Alright," she answered. "I will go." She laced her fingers briefly through his. "Whatever happens over the next few days promise me that you will be safe."

Jason sighed.

"I promise that I'll try to stay out of trouble," he said. "At least until my knee heals."

Ariadne shook her head. That was the best promise she would get out of him she supposed. Stealing one last kiss, she pushed herself to her feet and having bid Jason a distinctly fond farewell slipped out onto the street, pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head as she went.

* * *

><p>The refugees from the surrounding countryside had begun to arrive in the city some six days after Minos' proclamation bringing with them stories of the atrocities of the invading Amphigeneian army. As the force grew closer so the trickle of refugees became a flood; many of them bringing with them whatever possessions they had been able to carry. The farmers had had a little more foresight than most and had begun to pack up the contents of their storehouses as soon as the warning from the city had arrived. They trundled through the wind and rain lashed streets in their carts, their families and possessions riding with the produce from their farms and their fields burning behind them; determined as they were not to leave easy food for the invaders.<p>

At least they had brought their own food with them, Pasiphae thought grimly as she watched the flow of refugees making their weary way across the Temple square from an overlooking window in the Palace. The goods the farmers had brought were swelling the storehouses of the city but with a siege imminent that could only be a good thing. Many of those who had been displaced from their homes came with nothing but what they stood up in, their faces bearing expressions of shock. Few it seemed had heeded Minos' warning, believing that Anaxandros would turn back at the last minute; that a full scale invasion would never happen. They had been wrong.

A further proclamation from the King had seen the citizens of Atlantis opening their doors to the newcomers; utilising any spare rooms they might have to accommodate the refugees. Now though most of the houses in the city were full to bursting point and the doors of the Temple had been opened up to house any further arrivals. Not that many would come now, Pasiphae supposed. The latest word was that Anaxandros' army was little more than a day away from the city; would reach the walls by sundown tomorrow. All of Minos' messages had gone unanswered and his emissaries ignored. Now the serious business of war would begin.

For one thing the Queen was grateful though. That was that if Ariadne was to be believed (and Pasiphae had no reason to disbelieve her at this time) Jason would not be able to join the inevitable fighting on the city walls – at least not yet. Her heart had clenched when Ariadne had told her that the young man was injured; that he had hurt himself days earlier and she as his mother had not even known. She could hardly believe that he would simply fall down some stairs though. After all had she not seen him fighting in the arena? Flying over his opponents with ease? Further enquiries had revealed that a young dark haired man had passed out at the top of the city wall some days earlier and had fallen down the steps that led to the street. The Queen had been horrified. She had no doubt in her mind that this had been Jason – although she could not have explained her conviction as no-one present seemed to have known the lad's identity. He could have been killed and she would not have known. And why had he fainted anyway? Ariadne's visit to his home had confirmed the fact that he had not succumbed to the epidemic that had swept the city, although one of his friends had apparently been unwell. _His friends_. Peasants, Pasiphae thought bitterly. They were hardly suitable companions for a royal prince.

At least the Queen had been able to ensure that her son would have enough food to eat for the next few weeks, even if there was little else she was able to do to protect him. Ariadne's suggestion that a basket of food delivered through herself and the priest Melas might help Jason had been seized at once by the worried mother who had marched straight to the kitchen and ordered that just such a basket should be prepared and delivered to the Chief Priest at the Temple. The kitchen staff held her in far too much fear to object; had not even dared to wonder at her request. With the threat of an invasion it made sense that the Queen was making extra offerings at the Temple; was trying to importune Poseidon for his aid.

The city guards were forming up in the square, Pasiphae noted dispassionately. They were preparing to sweep the city; to go from door to door and make a record of every able bodied man below a certain age and any arms and armour that they might possess. Once the siege began the men and boys of the city would out of necessity have to take a turn at manning the walls; would have to be ready to repel an attack and lay down their lives for their King and their city if necessary. A strict rota would have to be drawn up to begin with to ensure that everyone who was able took their turn. This was absolutely essential the Queen knew and yet she couldn't help but feel a little grateful that Jason's recent injury would keep him from being swept up in this. She wished him no harm of course and would rather he hadn't hurt himself at all, but if ever there was a good time for him to have done so this was it. No, the city guards would not take a boy who could not walk without the use of crutches so for now at least Jason would be safe; would not be expected to take his turn until his leg had healed. She would have a few days respite at least before she truly needed to worry about him. I am growing weak, she thought. Giving in to my fears and that will not do. Now above all she needed to remain calm and resolute. She could not allow herself the luxury of worrying about one specific individual – even if that individual happened to be her son. Now more than ever she needed to find a way to make Jason acceptable to Minos. At least if her son were at the Palace she could be certain of his wellbeing. He would still have to take part in the defence of the city but at least she would know where he was. It was the not knowing that was the hardest part, she decided.

The pointed clearing of a throat behind her drew Pasiphae from her thoughts and made her turn around sharply, caught off guard. That was not like her and she silently berated herself for her own inattention, her face hardening as she realised that she had been discovered lost in her own thoughts by the Captain of the guard; the replacement for the late, and in her eyes unlamented, Ramos, whose name she could never seem to recall. Not that his name really mattered anyway; he was a giant of a man, picked for his size rather than his intelligence. That had been a mistake, Pasiphae felt. Whatever else Ramos had been he had been intelligent and it was his intelligence that had allowed him to keep the royal family safe for so many years. There had been no-one of the same calibre to replace him, however, and Minos had simply elected to promote one of the longer serving guards in his place. To be fair to the King he had still been severely weakened by his illness at the time and had not really given the matter the attention that he ought to have, caught up as he was in the wrangling between his wife and daughter and in the aftermath of Heptarian's death.

"What is it?" the Queen asked sharply, irritation at being taken by surprise hardening her tone even more than usual.

"The King requests your presence in the Council Chamber, My Lady," the man responded.

Pasiphae wondered waspishly how long it had taken her husband to make this great oaf understand the simple instruction to come and fetch her.

"And did my husband give any indication as to why my presence was required so urgently?" she asked.

Her companion seemed to be mulling it over for an inordinately long time – more, Pasiphae believed, because he was trying to work out exactly what she had asked than because the answer required careful contemplation.

"The King did not say," he answered eventually.

Pasiphae sighed. In truth she knew that Minos would only have requested her presence at a time when he was closeted with his most senior advisors if he felt it was truly necessary and that in itself spoke volumes to her. Turning sharply on her heel she strode off down the corridor with the lumbering Captain trundling in her wake and servants scattering ahead of her. The dressing down she had given the group of servants responsible for the area around the royal chambers a few days earlier had been remarkably thorough and news of it had spread among the Palace servants like wildfire. As a result they were all keen to avoid offending the Queen and it was well-known amongst them that she had been in a bad mood ever since the recent epidemic had broken out in the city. The threat of an invasion had hardly lightened her mood as all the servants were now well aware.

At the door to the Council Chamber Pasiphae paused and took a deep breath to centre herself. It would not do to go bursting in; to appear to those present as though she had nothing better to do than to run after her husband; to give his advisors the satisfaction of seeing her appear less than calm and collected. Smoothing the front of her dress and straightening the gold necklace that framed her throat the Queen drew herself up to her full height, her bearing and carriage regal. With a quick glare at the men guarding the entrance to the room she waited for the doors to the chamber to be opened for her. As the doors swung inwards Pasiphae walked towards the raised dais and the two thrones at the head of the room with carefully studied grace, her movements deliberately unhurried and calm. The Queen of Atlantis would not _run_. She might, she conceded, be persuaded to hurry if someone were chasing her but under normal circumstances she would never compromise herself by moving at anything more than a regal glide.

Stepping up onto the dais she seated herself on the second throne – taking her customary place on her husband's right hand side and surveyed the room through half-lidded eyes, daring anyone to challenge her right to be in this male dominated environment.

Minos glanced at her, his lips twitching imperceptibly, fighting the urge to smile. This was Pasiphae at her finest. This was the Queen that men underestimated at their peril and few would dare to disobey. Indeed it was only the hardiest of souls that did not feel a frisson of fear when they looked at the Atlantian Queen in this mood. Minos had always known deep down that he had married a dangerous woman – albeit a beautiful one – and it was at times like this that he was reminded why. Pasiphae's devotion to duty was unrivalled and her courage and strength unparalleled. With her fine political mind and immediate whip-sharp understanding of any situation that she was presented with Minos would not dream of holding the sort of high level meeting that he was to have today without his wife's input despite the obvious deficiency of her sex. He pitied the fool that would question the Queen's authority or her right to be present in this room at this time.

Right on cue Kephalon spoke up.

"Your Majesty," he objected. "We are having a strategy meeting to plan the course of this war. A woman – no matter how gifted – has no place here. Much as I respect Her Majesty's abilities I fear her understanding of battle tactics and warfare may be limited and her presence a distraction."

Minos felt rather than saw Pasiphae stiffen alongside him and knew that it was only years of experience at court that stopped her from exploding on the spot. As it was he feared that her temper would get the better of her and hurried to head that off.

"I sent for the Queen," he growled. "I believe that her opinion will be invaluable to me at this time."

"My Lord," Kephalon began again, "I am aware that Her Majesty is undoubtedly very capable but she _is_ only a woman after all."

He looked around the room seeking the support of the other councillors – most of whom were studiously studying the patterns on the ceiling or looking intently at something only they could see on the floor.

Minos resisted the sudden irrational urge to jump down from the dais and clout the idiot around the back of the head.

"You dare to question my judgement?" he asked in a terribly quiet voice. "Have you no respect?" This last question was roared.

Kephalon gaped at him, much in the manner of a fish that suddenly finds itself out of the water and on the riverbank.

Internally Pasiphae smiled at the Chief Minister's discomfort, although she was far too much of a politician to ever let it register on her face. Kephalon had been a thorn in her side for years now; pompous, puffed up with his own importance and dismissive of her simply because she was a woman. She enjoyed seeing him humbled before the entire council of ministers. His days of power were most definitely limited though – somehow she could not see Ariadne putting up with the fool once she became Queen. Much as she hated to admit it the girl was far too strong and far too clever to put up with advisors who would not treat her with the respect her position demanded.

Drawing her mind back to the present, Pasiphae watched her husband continuing to cow his Chief Minister into submission. Whatever else Minos was he was a good orator and a regal King. He was also a far finer politician than many people gave him credit for. Not quite in Pasiphae's league of course – but then who was? He knew how to dominate a situation though; how to use the full range of his voice to command and rule; that if someone bellowed at you, you bellowed back. Would Jason be able to command in that way? She had had little opportunity to hear him speak; had certainly never spoken to him directly. He _had_ raised his voice to Minos in the throne room when Heptarian had had him arrested – a brave but ultimately foolish act. She rather suspected though that that was because he did not really understand the social niceties or correct behaviour when one is dealing with royalty. There was time to correct that sort of behaviour though, she grimly reminded herself. He was still young after all; still finding his way in the world.

As to whether he would ever be able to command properly… well that remained to be seen. From what she had observed on the occasions when she had slipped out of the Palace to see him – following him at a distance to learn as much as she could about the young man who had grown from the baby she had lost – he had seemed to be generally fairly softly spoken with a tendency to slip into the background when his friends weren't there. That was deliberate, she felt. A practiced act to make himself as unremarkable and unnoticeable as possible. He would need to be broken of that; would need to learn to accept his place at the centre of attention. There was time for all that though once he was at her side. Pasiphae felt a little warm glow at the thought. Soon, she promised herself. As soon as she could safely do so she would bring his existence to Minos' attention and bring the boy to the Palace to live.

"What reports do we have of Anaxandros?" Minos asked of the room.

Pasiphae drew her thoughts away from her son and back to her husband once more. It was time for the game of war to begin in earnest.

* * *

><p>Hercules peered around the room with a frown. Where was the dratted boy? Jason, he knew, was out on the balcony watching the world go by again, lost in a daydream. At least he didn't look unhappy or worried at the moment his stocky friend noted with relief. In fact he was watching the street with a gentle half-smile, eyes as distant as the moon. But that left Pythagoras unaccounted for, and unless he was hiding under a bed he was not in the house.<p>

Over the last few days the young genius' strength had returned rapidly. He still tired fairly easily but on the whole had resumed his normal daily life – only taking the odd nap here and there as his stamina waned. He had even made a couple of trips to the market, although never unaccompanied and he had had to have a good long rest on his return.

Now though he was most definitely missing and Hercules was worried. It was unlike Pythagoras to go out without telling someone. Of course he might have told Jason where he was going, Hercules supposed. He headed towards the balcony intent on asking his brunette friend if he knew where the blonde was.

At the doorway to the balcony he paused and got a good long look at Jason. His brow cleared and he smiled. The lad looked better than he had in a long time; looked like the young man who had burst into their lives and shaken up their little home so spectacularly. Perhaps Jason had been right the other day – it _was_ time for them to stop treating him as though he was fragile and let him get back to normal completely.

Over the last few days the bruising that had covered the young man's body had faded to almost nothing and the stiffness that had come with it had almost gone. True he still winced occasionally when he stretched awkwardly and his ribs pulled but really that was only to be expected – fractured ribs took longer than a week to heal Hercules knew. His knee was gradually getting better too. Pythagoras had explained to Hercules that the knee joint was connected by nerves (Jason had rolled his eyes and muttered something about ligaments under his breath but neither of his friends had known what he was going on about) and that when Jason had fallen he had stretched some of those nerves almost to breaking point. The only real cure for that was rest, as both Pythagoras and the doctor had been keen to point out. As things were Jason had been able to completely do without the crutches since this morning, although his blonde friend still insisted that he put his feet up at every available opportunity. By each evening he was more than happy to comply, his knee having swollen slightly as he had walked on it as the day went on. Still it wouldn't be long now until he had fully healed – something that Hercules wasn't sure whether he should be grateful for or not. The city guards had come to the house yesterday to undertake the headcount for the defence of Atlantis. They had left having taken all three names but with a mark alongside both of the boys denoting the fact that neither lad was fit to take part yet and with the instruction that the authorities were to be informed once they were.

From his perch on the edge of the balcony (and Hercules shuddered to think just _how_ he was managing to balance there) Jason looked up at him with a bright smile.

"Everything alright?" the young man asked.

"Hmm," Hercules answered. "You don't know where Pythagoras has gone do you?"

Jason immediately frowned.

"He was working at the table the last time I looked." He looked at the position of the sun. "That might have been a while ago," he admitted. "I think I've lost track of time."

"Well he's not there now," Hercules answered. "He's not anywhere in the house."

Jason slid down from his seat and limped over to the strong man.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course I'm sure," Hercules responded indignantly. "I know he's skinny but I'm not going to completely miss him."

Jason held up his hands placatingly.

"I'm sure he'll be alright," he said. "I mean he's not exactly a child."

"I know," Hercules answered. "It's just…"

Before he could say anymore the door burst open and Pythagoras raced in, all flailing elbows and wide eyes. He was, his friends noticed, distinctly out of breath.

"Where in the name of the gods have you been?" Hercules groused.

"I… went to the… agora," Pythagoras panted. "I thought... there might be some… news… and there… was."

"Breathe," Hercules growled guiding Pythagoras towards a stool. "Whatever the news is it can wait until you have your breath back."

"Hercules I am fine," Pythagoras protested, still a little breathlessly.

Hercules glowered at the young genius and stood over him with his arms folded until Pythagoras had his breath back. Then he motioned the young man to continue with one meaty hand.

"I went to the agora to try to find out if there was any news," Pythagoras began, "and I overheard a conversation between two of the guards who were going past."

"And?" Hercules said.

"They didn't know I could hear them and I stayed as quiet as possible so I could listen. They said that Anaxandros' army arrived outside the city walls late last night and have set up camp as the day has gone on. They said that the city is encircled." Pythagoras took a deep breath. "We're completely cut off," he said softly.

Hercules nodded and looked between his two younger companions seriously. For a moment none of them spoke. Time itself seemed to stand still. In the distance a bell began to ring and was answered by a blare of horns. All three men looked towards the window.

"It's begun," Hercules said grimly.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Thank you all for the lovely reviews. So only half an hour to go until episode 2... yey! :-)

Please, please, pretty please review...

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><p>The first attack on the city came just before midnight in the area to the north of the Telapius Gate. The warning bell had sounded in the early afternoon to alert the citizens to the fact that an attack was imminent and the answering horn cries from the walls had done little to soothe the frazzled nerves of the populous. There had been the usual elaborate posturing to start with – the champions of the Amphigeneian army riding forwards to issue formal challenges to any Atlantian champions who would come forwards to face them. Not that anyone had answered the call. Minos was too wily and experienced to waste his best troops in a wholly meaningless contest so early on in the campaign. There would be time enough for the heroes of the two armies to face each other in single combat at a later date when it was more propitious and advantageous to the King of Atlantis to take the risk.<p>

There were those in the city who thought that the King was afraid; that he was showing a distinct lack of strength by refusing to answer the challenges of the Amphigeneian champions. Those who said that since the sudden death of the Lord Heptarian more than two months ago Atlantis had no real champions left. It had not really helped that no-one in the city really knew what had happened to him. The proclamation from the Palace had simply stated that he had been a traitor and had been killed while betraying the throne. Many thought that Minos' illness had clouded his mind and judgement, although there were few who would say that openly. He had always been suspicious in nature; had regularly banished or executed those he suspected of betraying him – even his own son – usually with little justification or evidence. It seemed impossible to the general populous that Heptarian would have betrayed the King in any way not matter how generally unpopular he had been.

For all his arrogance and mistreatment of the ordinary citizens of Atlantis Heptarian had been a highly skilled and gifted warrior – as many now remembered. In the face of a besieging army his courage and skill would have been welcomed and many people privately wondered whether anyone would be capable of taking his place. No word came from the Palace, however, and the champions of Amphigeneia continued their posturing and taunting from beyond the range of bowshot outside the city walls. Atlantis prepared itself for the onslaught that was sure to follow sooner or later, surrounded as they were by an army that stretched for miles.

When the attack came it was sudden and brutal. Thousands of flaming arrows lit up the night's sky, falling in a deadly rain upon the heads of the defenders. The siege catapults would not be built for several days yet – were currently under construction at the back of the Amphigeneian encampment, fully in view of the warriors manning the walls but too far away for them to do anything about. It was a calculated move on the part of Anaxandros, designed to let the Atlantian populous know that the battle would only get worse. Here and there an arrow overshot its mark and fell into the deserted streets below to be stamped on and put out by anyone available. More than one, however, fell into a stack of straw – fodder for the numerous goats that the peasants kept for milk and meat, or used to stuff the mattresses of the poor – or among a stack of crates, fortunately not as tinder dry as usual due to the amount of rain that the season had brought. Where these arrows fell they caught light, burning brightly and rapidly. Then the occupants of the surrounding houses would spill out into the street, heedless of the dangers posed by the hail of falling arrows in their haste to put out the growing flames and to stop the city from burning.

After the first hail of arrows came the troops with their scaling ladders. The surviving defenders, who had spent the barrage huddled under raised shields, stood and attempted to push the ladders away from the wall with long poles, all the time praying to the gods for deliverance. Here and there a ladder crashed to the ground, taking with it any attackers unlucky enough to be on it at the time, sending them hurtling through the air to lie in a broken heap of bodies. The defenders poured great cauldrons of boiling water down onto the heads of the survivors and the attack began to falter. The screams of the dead and dying mixing with the bellows of the officers, the ululation of the war horns and the shouts of the troops to make a confusing cacophony of sound. Finally the Amphigeneians broke and ran, regrouping in their own encampment to prepare for the next wave of attack. The defenders cheered briefly and then hunkered down on the walls again as the deadly hail of arrows, their tips wrapped in pitch coated cloth and set alight, began to rain down upon them once more.

* * *

><p>From the Palace on the hill Minos watched his city beginning to burn – the first blows being delivered in what was sure to be a long and bloody contest – and prayed to the gods for their aid. In another window his queen stared at the growing chaos and wondered where her son was in the middle of all of this. At least she could be fairly sure that Jason would not be out on the streets at the moment; would not have joined in the desperate fight for survival on the city walls. The injury he had sustained to his leg would keep him safe for the moment. His home was deep in the centre of the city so there was little danger at present from the besieging army or their flaming arrows and yet Pasiphae couldn't help but wonder how long that would last. Jason would, she was sure, join the battle as soon as he was physically able. Finally, unable to allow her mind to follow those dark paths anymore, Pasiphae turned away from the window and made her way deep inside her chambers to the secret chamber that none but her knew the existence of. Once inside she muttered a quick prayer to Hekate and began her preparations, binding and blessing bunches of herbs to burn as an offering and moulding a little figure of clay. Finally all was prepared. Now all she had to do was wait until her spies provided her with something of Anaxandros' – a lock of hair or a clipping of nails would do nicely – and then she would make Amphigeneia's King rue the day he had made war on Atlantis.<p>

* * *

><p>Deep in the heart of the city Hercules woke from an uneasy sleep. Much as he had tried to reassure the two boys that he was not worried about this most recent turn of events he remembered only too well the dark times that had plagued the city in the civil war; the bloodshed and the fear. Deep in his heart he dreaded a return to those times. For a while he lay there in the darkness staring at the ceiling and reliving the events of the day. The bell that had tolled in the early afternoon and the horn calls that had replied to it had simply been a warning that the city needed to make ready. He had been very quick to reassure the boys of that fact, knowing that neither one of them had any real experience of warfare. It was true that over the past few months they had all been involved in a variety of battles – quick skirmishes with bandits or city guards – but the sort of pitched battle that was involved in outright war was beyond the realms of experience of either one of them. It worried Hercules, knowing as he did that sooner or later both the boys would be required to take their part in the defence of the city; would have to stand on the wall and face a barrage of arrows followed up by a full on assault; or would have to face an opposing army in the streets of their city itself if the defence did not go according to plan and the Amphigeneians managed to break through. Neither one of Hercules' friends were trained soldiers, no matter what natural aptitude Jason showed in that respect.<p>

Pythagoras was really too gentle to be any sort of warrior. He was logical, rational and frighteningly intelligent but was more likely to stab himself in the foot with a sword than to successfully see off an attack with it. To be truthful he was much better than he had been – didn't drop his weapons anywhere near as much as in the past and could usually be relied upon to actually remember to bring one these days – but he was not one of nature's soldiers. How would sweet sensitive Pythagoras fare having to defend himself and his city day in and day out? Hercules knew how seriously Pythagoras took the act of taking a life – with good reason as it happened – and could not help but be concerned that in the kill or be killed situation that would inevitably occur on the city walls Pythagoras would not cope as well as other young men his age.

Jason on the other hand had the potential to be a great warrior; to be a true hero if Hercules were being particularly honest with himself. But the lad was not quite there yet. In many ways he was still too naïve; still saw the world as a black and white place; had not yet learned that there were shades of grey. Although he was rapidly developing into a fine warrior he still lacked experience and had certainly never, to Hercules' certain knowledge, experienced the chaos of a pitched battle. Then there was the lad's worrying habit of attracting trouble wherever he went and his basic innate need to save every helpless person or creature he came across. Hercules shook his head in the darkness. That had the potential to cause Jason a great deal of grief and in the current situation would possibly be fatal. The young man also seemed to attract arrows. In the months he had been in the city he had already been shot twice.

The burly wrestler turned over in bed and gave his pillow a thump, willing sleep to come. He lay in the dark listening to the horn cries from the city wall. It was amazing how quickly you could get used to something, he thought. The horns had been sounding at regular intervals since early afternoon now. Eventually they would stop sounding them – once the authorities believed that all the citizens were sufficiently warned – only sounding the proper war cry when an attack occurred. Gradually though the strong man realised that the sound of the horns was different to what it had been this afternoon. It was a battle cry _not_ a warning. Hercules stiffened. So it really _had_ begun. He swallowed and pushed himself up from the bed, feeling guiltily glad that his house was in the centre of the city and not one of those that would inevitably face a barrage of missiles as the battles went on, and needing a stiff drink.

In the kitchen he paused, casting a quick glance towards the curtain that separated Pythagoras' room from the rest of the house, hoping that his two young friends were sleeping peacefully and wondering if he should just stick his head around the curtain to check. Something brushed against his leg, a feather light tickle of soft fur, and he jumped back with a startled, albeit half-whispered, oath. It was Isosceles. Hercules bent down and picked the cat up.

"You scared the life out of me," he rumbled.

Then he looked around. For the kitten to be up and on the prowl meant only one thing: that Jason was not in his bed. The strong man frowned deeply. Of all the nights for his young friend to take it into his head to go wandering this was not a good one. Especially since the lad was not fully healed yet. By this evening his knee had been swollen and sore again – evidence that he had been overdoing it during the day – and he had been packed off to bed to put his feet up far earlier than he would normally retire with a painkilling tonic and alternating cold and warm compresses to put on his knee to make him feel better. Jason hadn't really complained too much, especially since they had all simply gathered and carried on their conversation in Pythagoras' room; the mathematician stretched out comfortably on his own bed and Hercules on a stool between the two of them. As the older man's job had finally finished the night before he was free to spend the evening at home (the taverns being closed due to a strict curfew) and had eventually found himself nodding off on his stool listening to the bright chatter of his friends. By the time he had dragged himself off to bed the boys had been deeply engrossed in a game of Tilia.

Now though it seemed that Jason had decided to go walkabout. Hercules rather hoped he was still somewhere in the vicinity of the house because he really didn't relish looking for the young man in the streets of a city that was under attack. He worried that Jason would somehow end up being caught up in the fighting on the wall and, while he didn't usually worry too much about the boy's ability to hold his own in a fight, right now that injured leg would mean that he simply couldn't move as fluidly as usual.

With a sigh the big man reached for his sandals, fully prepared to go and find Jason and drag him home. Before he could pull them on a noise from the balcony alerted him and he crept out with a large metal dish in hand, ready to take on any intruder; half afraid it would be an enemy soldier. He breathed a heavy sigh of exasperated relief and put down the pan when he realised that what he had taken to be an intruder was in fact his missing housemate.

Jason was perched on the edge of the balcony, his dark curls blowing in the stiff breeze and his chin resting in his hand. Despite the coldness of the night air Hercules was somewhat exasperated to note that he was barefoot and clearly hadn't thought to bring either his cloak or a blanket with him. Without alerting the young man to his presence his friend dodged back into the house and grabbed a couple of blankets knowing that there was a chance neither one of them would be returning to bed particularly quickly but determined that they would both stay warm. As Hercules made his way back onto the roof Jason spoke, startling his older friend who had thought that the young man was unaware of his presence, lost in his own world.

"It started about an hour ago," he murmured, never turning around.

Hercules made his way over and looked in the same direction as his younger friend. In the distance hundreds of little pinpoints of light brightened the night's sky above the city wall. Hercules shuddered, knowing that every one of those pinpoints was an arrow and that that meant that men were fighting and dying just a couple of short miles from where he stood.

"They look almost like fireworks," Jason muttered moodily. "They'd be almost pretty if you didn't know what they really were."

He glanced across at his older companion and Hercules felt his breath catch in his throat at the expression on the young man's face. Jason looked older and more jaded than the big man had ever seen him. It didn't suit him Hercules decided, mentally trying to work out what he could do or say to lift his friend's spirits. Jason had had too many dark days in his friend's opinion over the last couple of months. It was too easy, given the lad's knack of hiding behind an easy-going smile, to write him off as a naïve and wide-eyed optimist – and Hercules was only too aware that there were many people who met Jason and did just that. Yet when you got to know him – _really_ know him mind you – when he finally let his defences down enough to let you in – there was a faint edge of darkness that clung to Jason's soul; a sadness that hovered about him at times when he was quiet and thought that no-one was looking. If it was the last thing he did Hercules was determined that one day he would find a way to fight that sadness away. For now though he would be content to wipe the world-weary and pensive expression off the young man's face.

"What's a firework?" he asked idly reaching one meaty hand out to gently rub the back of his friend's neck reassuringly.

"It's just something that entertains people back where I come from," Jason answered. "They're… well I'm not entirely sure what they really are… some sort of explosive I guess. You light them and fire them up into the sky and they burst with all sorts of pretty colours." He looked down at his hands. "It doesn't really matter," he said.

Hercules sighed and slid down to sit on the floor, patting the ground firmly beside himself and looking up at his friend with a stern expression. After a moment or two Jason slipped down from his perch and sank down beside his friend, his view of the fire arrows inhibited by the wooden partition. Hercules casually stretched out an arm and rested it behind his companion's back. He smiled softly as he felt some of the tension seep out of Jason's shoulders. The young man might not be as openly tactile as Pythagoras but over the last two months he had come to appreciate the benefits of a good hug.

For a while they sat in comfortable silence, each lost in his own thoughts. After a short time Hercules stirred and reached for the two blankets, wrapping one about himself and offering the other to his friend who took it with a roll of his eyes and wrapped himself in it.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Hercules rumbled.

"Couldn't sleep," Jason admitted with a grimace.

He had learned in recent weeks to try to keep any episodes of insomnia that he had to himself, knowing how much it worried both his friends. The truth be told his sleepless nights were few and far between now and most of the time he felt better rested than he had in a very long time. That was largely thanks to Pythagoras' gentle insistence that he should relax before trying to sleep and should get into better habits. Since his insomnia had largely been dealt with he saw no need to worry his friends any more than they already were.

Hercules glowered slightly. He thought they had dealt with this; thought that they had extracted a promise from Jason to come to one of them if he couldn't sleep and needed to talk.

"You should have woken me," he groused.

"Nah," Jason said with a half grin, "you need all the beauty sleep you can get."

He quickly ducked Hercules' attempt to clip him around the ear.

"I promise I really was fine," Jason went on. "I just needed some time to think and I've always liked looking at the stars." He hesitated for a moment and then looked seriously at Hercules. "What's it like?" he asked.

"What's what like?" Hercules responded gently.

"On the walls tonight," Jason answered. "What must it be like for them?"

"Chaos," Hercules rumbled quietly. "It's messy and bloody and confusing and completely and utterly terrifying."

"You've been there then?"

"Once," the burly wrestler answered shortly. "A long time ago – during the civil war."

Jason frowned.

"That was between King Minos and King Aeson?" Jason asked uncertainly.

Hercules glanced at him, startled. At times he was truly astounded by just how little Jason knew of what probably amounted to his own family history. It made sense in a sad way though – the boy had been just too young when he had essentially been abandoned to have any real memories of his own and would have had no-one to tell him the stories of his past and his forebears.

"Pythagoras was telling you about the civil war the other day," he murmured.

"Yes," Jason said. He hesitated. "What was it like?" he asked.

"Like any war… messy. Lots of good men died on both sides. Why do you want to know?"

Jason bit his lip.

"I was thinking about what Pythagoras told me and I worked out that it must have been around then that my father took me away from Atlantis. I was about a year and a half old when he took me to where I grew up… and I suppose I wondered if maybe the war was why we left."

Hercules sighed. While he knew Jason's father must have had his reasons for leaving the boy like he did he couldn't help but think that it was cruel to have left him with so little idea of who he was; to have left him with a lifetime of questions.

"It might have been," he said, knowing full well that if Jason's father really was the former king then it most certainly was the reason. "Lots of people left the city then. No loving parent would want their child in danger in a war torn city."

Jason smiled at the thought. Then he yawned.

Hercules grinned at him knowingly.

"Ready to go back to bed now?" he asked.

With heavy-lidded eyes the young man nodded and pushed himself back to his feet, limping heavily towards the bedroom where Pythagoras slept undisturbed. At the doorway he turned and bid his older companion a good night before letting himself back in through the curtain, drawing it behind himself to shut out the rest of the world.

* * *

><p>Dawn broke over the city and the weary guardians heaved a sigh of relief. They had endured the first night of bombardment, fighting off two more waves of attack in the darkness. They huddled now in exhausted groups, the cold of the early morning seeping into their weary bones. Soon a new wave of defenders would come to relieve them; to take their places in preparation for the next attack. At the moment though the besiegers were as tired and cold as they were and another attack seemed unlikely.<p>

As the cold grey light grew, pale and wan on the winter's morning, the victims of the night's battles were revealed, sprawled where they had fallen. It seemed impossible to think that just yesterday these had been living, breathing men with hopes and dreams; that each one of them was somebody's husband, brother or son. Every so often one of the bodies had fallen from the city wall to land in the street below or on the roof of one of the surrounding houses. Men were dispatched to retrieve these inconveniently located bodies with long hooks and ropes; an unpleasant but essential task. If the fallen were left where they were then the chances of pestilence spreading increased massively and, as the city had only recently endured an epidemic, no-one wished to see that happen.

Then began the grim task of stripping the bodies of their weapons and any usable equipment – something that no-one relished but was prudent – and identifying them for the corpse buriers, so that they might at least go into the afterlife with their own names intact. In the early morning light a soldier wept for a fallen comrade – his younger brother – but would allow no-one else to remove the young man's armour, bending to kiss his brother's hair as he carefully undid the lacings and gently stripped the breastplate away. The distant rumble of a cart indicated that the burial wagon would arrive all too soon to remove the victims of the night. Somewhere a dog barked, the sound loud and jarring in the still air, and tendrils of smoke wreathed up into the air from a still smouldering pile of straw.

Gradually, as the light grew, the people of Atlantis began to creep back out onto the streets of their city. Until the horns warned of the next attack life would have to go on as normal, although everyone was only too aware that there would be empty places in many homes this morning and that there would only be more to come in the coming days. Every family who had had men manning the walls overnight prayed to the gods that the day would bring them safely home.

As the day began the market traders in the agora began to lay out their wares as household servants made their way through the streets looking to purchase the day's supplies for their masters. The usual hustle and bustle of life in Atlantis began once more; the hushed voices raising to their normal levels and mixing with the bleating goats, clucking chickens, barking dogs, rumbling carts and other sounds that made up the general hubbub of the city.

From a side street Talos emerged, holding tightly onto his daughter's hand as he walked across the agora, heading for his workshops. Part of him questioned his own wisdom at bringing Castianiera back to a city that was now under siege, which could potentially be attacked and overrun at any time, but really there had been no choice. He had taken the girl into the countryside to escape the ravages of the recent pestilence and could have remained there but the advance of Anaxandros' army had necessitated their return. Whilst Atlantis would undoubtedly be dangerous at least the walls offered protection and that was far more than they would have had outside. In fact it was said that the city had never fallen – and never would as long as there were stout-hearted men to defend it. Talos was not sure about that but he was sure that it was infinitely safer than anywhere in the surrounding area, given the stories that the other fleeing refugees had told of the Amphigeneian atrocities. Such stories were likely to be exaggerated of course but would hold at least a kernel of truth.

As the young father crossed the agora he was blissfully unaware of hard eyes following him. The man who stepped from the shadows smiled cruelly as he watched father and daughter moving through the marketplace. The girl was a pretty child and that golden hair was an extra bonus. He had seen them enter the city with their belongings in the company of other refugees from the countryside. With so many extra people in the city, a few little children would not be missed here and there and would make a handsome profit… and if the children belonged to the refugees so much the better. After all they would hardly have anyone to help them; would hardly know who to turn to. With the city under siege the authorities would have far more important issues to deal with and would be unlikely to waste time in pursuing the matter. There were always ways and means of smuggling people into and out of a city even in the middle of a siege and always men on both sides who could be bribed to turn a blind eye. With so much turmoil in the city the chances for profit for the man's gang seemed assured. He smiled again. Tonight the girl would belong to them.

* * *

><p>The first attack of the day came shortly after midday, when many of the Atlantian populous were sitting down to eat. As the horns sounded their discordant warning of the battle to come, those citizens who were on the streets scuttled for safety in the nearest building, each praying that the gods would protect and spare their city.<p>

On the walls many of the defenders got their first look at the Amphigeneian front line. It seemed to stretch for miles in every direction, a solid wall of men in their green cloaks and leather armour. Then the noise started. At an unspoken command the Amphigeneians began to beat the backs of their shields with the hilts of their swords or butts of their spears rhythmically, crying out every time they did. The noise was terrifying for those not trained in the art of warfare. Knowing an attack was imminent now the Atlantian officers moved about the walls, checking weapons here and trying to bolster flagging spirits there with a friendly clap on the back or a few hurried words.

The Amphigeneian army went silent. From somewhere deep in their ranks a rumbling started and a path was cleared. A strange contraption came rumbling through. This was a tortoise – a wheeled device that moved as slowly as its name; a strange, elongated pyramid created from a framework of wood covered in raw hides, dampened to prevent them catching fire if the soldiers manning the walls fired fire arrows at it. At its heart, slung from ropes attached to the upper frame, was a giant battering ram. This was Aries, the famous war machine of the Amphigeneian army; a giant metal ram's head attached to a massive tree trunk bound with hoops of bronze. It had been forged in the day of Anaxandros' great-grandfather and there were those who said it was a gift from Hermes himself. Carried with great reverence to the site of any Amphigeneian siege, it was mounted on a locally felled tree trunk and housed in the hastily constructed carriage. Now it trundled forwards towards the Telapius Gate, while the archers began to rain arrows down upon the city walls and the infantry began their march forwards with their scaling ladders once again.

Like a great wave the Amphigeneians dashed themselves against the walls of the city, coming time and time again to be repelled by the Atlantian soldiers. Far below the city wall Aries beat itself against the Telapius Gate, the soldiers manning it probing for a weakness in the great door. The archers on the city walls shot fire arrows down at it until finally the drying hides began to smoulder and the attackers were forced to withdraw, taking the ram with them for fear if it falling into enemy hands. As the attack faltered and began to break the Amphigeneian archers picked up their own fire arrows once more, firing repeatedly at the city to give their troops time to withdraw. At a command they ceased, the sudden stillness and silence shocking after the brutality and noise of the last hour or so.

A horn blast let the citizens know that for now the attack was over. The city endured.

* * *

><p>From the balcony of their home Jason found his eyes almost inexorably drawn towards the wreathing smoke hanging like a pall over the city walls. He shouldn't really be out here he thought somewhat moodily. It wasn't doing any good and was only serving to darken his mood. He had been having a bad day ever since he had woken up this morning and had begun to take it out on his friends; snapping when he didn't really mean to; becoming more and more unpleasant to be around as the day went on.<p>

After his chat with Hercules on the balcony last night he had returned to bed and had fallen into an uneasy sleep; plagued by strange dreams. In some ways they had reminded him of the dreams of his childhood; strange fleeting images that he struggled to cling onto in the waking world. As a child the only constant of these dreams had been the strange city on the hill bathed in bright sunlight; a city that he now knew to be Atlantis. Even now he wasn't quite sure how the place had managed to intrude into his dreams. Surely he had been too young when he left here to remember it?

Last night's dreams had been the strangest he had had for a long time though. Not nightmares per se – certainly not as bad as some that he had had over the years – but half-remembered images; visions of people he did not recognise but felt familiar – a tall, scar-faced man in a green cloak who strode through the Temple; himself and Hercules fighting back-to-back against an impossible seeming number of soldiers; little Castianiera sobbing in a small dark room. Jason shook himself. It was nothing more than a dream he sternly reminded himself. He really shouldn't be letting it disturb him this much.

This morning he had woken up feeling as though he hadn't actually been to bed – feeling as though his head was stuffed with cotton wool. He'd been snappy all day too, inexplicably on edge, and had retreated out here shortly after the war horns had been sounded, feeling Hercules' disapproving gaze on him as he went. Hercules thought that he was fixating on the siege too much Jason knew, but that wasn't really the problem. Yes there was a war going on – a war that sooner or later he was likely to have to participate in – but more than that he had a bad feeling; a feeling of impending doom that he could no more explain than he could dismiss. There was something unpleasant heading their way.

The young man shook himself again. This was ridiculous. He hadn't felt this anxious and out of sorts in nearly two months now – not since they had all returned home from Meriones' house. No wonder his friends had been casting worried looks in his direction all morning. The problem was that Jason couldn't seem to get past the hollow, nervous feeling that was eating away at him right now. The walls were beginning to close in again, which was partly why he had wandered out onto the balcony in the first place; needing to feel the fresh, cold winter air on his face.

The sound of a softly clearing throat made him jump. Pythagoras stood in the doorway to the balcony, his blue eyes deeply concerned. Jason attempted to smile, although he wasn't completely convinced that it hadn't come out as a grimace. Pythagoras frowned.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jason responded. "I'm just a bit out of sorts today… sorry."

Pythagoras hesitated.

"It has been a while since you have had a day this bad," he murmured.

Jason sighed.

"I know," he admitted. "The walls have been closing in a bit today. I just want to shut out the rest of the world right now."

"As long as you do not shut us out along with it," Pythagoras said with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't mean to," Jason answered. He looked back around the mathematician towards the welcoming warmth of the kitchen. "I suppose we ought to go back inside before Hercules comes looking for us."

"I don't think he would be happy at either one of us being out here for too long," the young genius agreed. He broke off with a sudden cough.

Jason looked at him worriedly, his anxiety levels growing even more. The thought that Pythagoras might become ill again ate away at him.

Pythagoras spotted the growing concern in his friend and sought to reassure Jason as soon as his coughing fit passed.

"I am fine," he murmured. "It is simply the final lingering effects of that blasted fever. I do not feel unwell in any way." He took in the worried eyes and unhappy stance, Jason's arms hugging himself slightly in his own anxiety. "Perhaps it would be as well if we returned indoors though."

As the two young men re-entered the house Hercules looked up from his cup of wine and watched them coming across the room, taking in the anxiety that seemed to flow off Jason in waves as he limped across the floor. The burly man frowned. The boy was clearly having a bad day – a dark day – and needed pulling back before he spiralled too far. Hercules exchanged a significant look with Pythagoras, communicating his worry with his eyes. The mathematician smiled slightly and nodded, moving towards the shelves that contained his herbs. Hercules stood up and stepped forwards to intercept Jason, pulling the startled young man into a sudden firm hug. For a moment he thought that Jason might actually resist but then the brunette sighed and relaxed into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't really know what gets into me." He slipped his arms around his bulkier friend and hugged back.

Hercules smiled softly.

"It's not a problem," he rumbled, "but if you're having a bad day just let either him or me know. All we want to do is help."

"I know," Jason said as Hercules pulled back and started to direct him towards the table, one burly arm still wrapped firmly around the young man's shoulders. "Sometimes it just creeps up on me. I mean I thought I was ok now… I haven't had a bad day in weeks and I thought things had finally got better…"

"They have got better," Pythagoras said coming around the table with a steaming cup in his hands, "but it will take time."

"I know," Jason admitted. "I didn't sleep well last night and I suppose it's got me a bit on edge."

Hercules frowned.

"I thought you were going straight to bed after we talked," he growled.

"I did," Jason answered, "and I did get back to sleep… It's just that I had some odd dreams and it sort of disturbed me… I can't explain really… I just woke up with this strange feeling… like something bad is coming our way… something else bad that is."

"You had nightmares?" Pythagoras asked.

"Not exactly," Jason admitted slowly. "They were just… odd. Weird images. It was just a feeling more than anything… I don't really know how to describe it."

He wrapped his hands around the warm cup that Pythagoras had presented him with, suddenly very much aware of how cold the day was and how chilled he had become out on the balcony. He smiled softly as the unmistakable smell of chamomile hit his nostrils.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"It is really not a problem," Pythagoras answered, knowing just how much a chamomile infusion helped to calm his friend's anxiety. "You have always seemed to enjoy it."

"I do," Jason admitted.

He relaxed into Hercules' one-armed embrace for a few minutes allowing both the soothing qualities of the chamomile tea and the all-encompassing warmth of the love of his two friends to warm and calm him both inside and out. Presently he shook himself and put the now empty cup down, easing his way out from under the big wrestler's arm. Looking about himself he spotted a set of dice on the end of the table and reached out to pick them up with a grin.

"Anyone like a game?" he asked.

Hercules grinned back.

"Prepare to lose your shirt," he said.

* * *

><p>Pasiphae paused in the doorway of Minos' study. He looked tired, she thought almost clinically. It was probably only natural but with his less than robust nature it was one more thing for the Queen to keep an eye on. As things stood, with Anaxandros and his army on their doorstep, the last thing that the city needed was for their King to falter at this crucial stage because of his health.<p>

"You need rest, My Lord," she said firmly, stepping gracefully into the room.

Minos looked up from the report he was studying and turned to face her with a faint smile.

"I did not sleep well last night," he acknowledged. "I could not find rest while the city was under attack."

"A siege of this nature can go on for some time," Pasiphae counselled. "You must conserve your strength. You will do no-one any good if you burn yourself out too early."

Minos sighed.

"I do not think that sleep will come easily to me as long as Anaxandros threatens us," he admitted.

"Then allow me to send for the physician," Pasiphae said smoothly, placing one delicate hand on her husband's shoulder. "He will be able to give you something to ease your rest."

"Perhaps," the King agreed, "but not yet. For now there is simply too much for me to attend to." He looked at his wife fondly and covered her had with his own. "Simply knowing you are here gives me strength however," he added.

Pasiphae smiled.

"I am glad," she answered softly. "We must be strong for the sake of Atlantis."

"You are right as usual," Minos said with a smile. "Where is Ariadne?"

"Your daughter is at prayer in the Temple," the Queen answered.

"She is a good and faithful daughter," Minos murmured, "and will be a good queen. She is a true servant of Poseidon. I am only sorry that I was unable to give her what her heart most desired."

Pasiphae frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Minos sighed again.

"More than two months ago now I became aware that the young man who had saved Ariadne's life from Heptarian's plot had developed… feelings for her. I spoke to him and told him that it could never be of course… but when I was speaking to Ariadne I became aware that perhaps the boy was not alone in his feelings and that in fact they were reciprocated by her… I was forced to bar her from ever seeing the boy again… It was hard to disappoint Ariadne in that way and part of me wished that it could be otherwise. The boy is brave and noble and has proved that he is utterly loyal to my daughter… but he is not of royal blood; is no more than a peasant. It can never be between them."

Pasiphae's mind was racing. She had not known of this incident and certainly had not known that Minos was in any way aware of the fact that Ariadne was no longer a little girl, but it might be used to her advantage. Her husband had admitted that Jason was brave, noble and loyal and that might work in her favour when he finally learned of her son's identity – might be used to help her reconcile him towards Jason. If he already believed that the boy had good qualities and would not challenge him because of his innate loyalty then so much the better.

"I am sure you acted in Ariadne's best interests, My Lord," she said smoothly.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

"Come," Minos barked.

It was Kephalon who came through the door, looking sufficiently chastened when his eyes glanced over the Queen to make Pasiphae smile inwardly.

"Your Majesty," he began, "we have received an envoy from King Anaxandros."

"And?" Minos asked impatiently.

"King Anaxandros is claiming that a clause exists in the peace treaty signed between his father, King Hagnon, and King Aeson's father, King Cretheus."

Minos privately felt that there were altogether too many kings in that last sentence – not least because as a general rule he preferred to be the only king in any room.

"What clause?" he asked sharply.

"The clause states that if either of the Kings or their son's died without an heir the throne of that kingdom would pass to whomsoever sat on the throne of the other kingdom at that time," Kephalon said, shaking slightly. "Put simply, because King Aeson disappeared and apparently died and there was no heir to the throne – due to the death of the Prince – the throne should have reverted to King Anaxandros."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have heard in a long time," Pasiphae burst out. "If Anaxandros truly believed that he had a claim to the throne he would have staked it at the time and not waited more than twenty years."

"King Anaxandros is claiming that he was waiting to make sure that the Prince truly was dead and was not going to return to claim his throne. He says that as it is now clear that there is no legitimate claimant for the throne of Atlantis he is forced to step in and claim the city for himself."

"It is pure nonsense," Pasiphae asserted. "He knows that he is breaking a sacred oath and is simply trying to justify himself with this ridiculous story."

"That's as may be, My Lady," Kephalon said, "but as long as he is claiming that such a clause exists there will be some who will believe him. Atlantis does after all have enemies. King Anaxandros has stated that he will give His Majesty two days from dawn tomorrow to consider his response. Then, if the true heir to the throne cannot be produced, or if Your Majesty fails to surrender, the attack will begin again."

"And until dawn tomorrow?" Minos asked coolly, already knowing the answer.

"Until the truce comes into effect at dawn the attack will continue," Kephalon said. "I think King Anaxandros is hoping that you will capitulate immediately."

"Then he does not know us very well," Pasiphae hissed.

Minos looked at her with a half-smile. Then he turned back to Kephalon, his face serious once more.

"You may leave us," he instructed.

As Kephalon filed out he turned back to Pasiphae with a serious expression.

"It would seem, my love, that your wish to find your son is to be granted," he murmured. "If the boy is indeed in the city then he must be found quickly. Anaxandros has, after all, only given us two days."

"You cannot believe that Anaxandros will keep his word," Pasiphae scoffed. "If we do produce the boy he will say it is a trick."

"I know," Minos admitted, "but it will remove all trace of legitimacy from his claim and may encourage our allies to come to our aid. We are isolated, Pasiphae. Cut off. And at the moment we are playing for time. If ever there was a good time for your son to reappear it is now."

* * *

><p>Pythagoras looked up from the pot of stew he was stirring as Hercules cursed and smiled to himself. His two friends were deeply engrossed in a game of dice, although which one was actually winning was somewhat of a moot point as Isosceles had decided to join in and was currently chasing one of the dice across the table – which was what had caused Hercules to curse. Jason, on the other hand, was chuckling openly both at the antics of the kitten and at Hercules' attempts to reclaim his dice. After his bad start to the day it was nice to see him so relaxed and happy Pythagoras decided.<p>

"Does one of you want to set the table?" he called across from the fire pit.

Hercules scrambled to comply, all interest in kittens and dice lost in favour of food. Jason looked across at Pythagoras and grinned fondly, rolling his eyes comically before setting about clearing the table of both cat and dice so that his bulky friend had somewhere to set the dishes down.

Somewhere in the distance the curfew bell rang. Hercules smiled as he came back to the table.

"Tell me," he asked, "do you know the story of Prometheus and how he stole fire from the gods?"

"Not really," Jason admitted. "I think I missed that one in school."

"Well it goes like this," Hercules began.

As he started to tell the tale, Pythagoras sat back in his seat to listen. Hercules was, he had to admit, one of the best storytellers he had ever heard… as long as he steered clear of the tales of his own heroism – although even those could be amusing.

Dinner went remarkably quickly and by the time they were lingering over their wine cups, the empty plates still strewn on the table, the big man had moved on to the story of Deucalion and Pyrrha. Pythagoras was just about to join in and correct what he felt were one or two inaccuracies in his friend's tale when a sudden harsh pounding at the door drove all three of them to their feet, instantly on edge.

As the young mathematician was nearest to the door he hurried to open it.

Talos, the young merchant whose daughter had befriended Jason, almost fell through it, a wound upon his scalp trickling red blood down his face. Pythagoras caught him and took in the shocked face of the man who had become a friend to all of them with growing horror. The last any of them had heard Talos had taken Cassie into the countryside to escape the epidemic that had wracked the city, although it would be understandable if he had brought her back now given the Amphigeneian advance. But if that was so then where was she?

"Help me," Talos begged.

"What has happened?" Pythagoras asked. "Where is Cassie?"

Talos clutched at him desperately.

"They've taken her!" he gasped. "They've taken my daughter."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Thank you once again for taking the time and trouble to leave the lovely reviews. This chapter has taken a lot longer than originally anticipated - at least in part because I got sidetracked by the oneshot I published last week!

Anyway it's here now. Please don't forget to let me know if you like it... that is if you _do_ like it!

* * *

><p>"Who's taken her?" Hercules demanded, coming around the table as Talos continued to clutch at Pythagoras helplessly.<p>

"I… I don't…" Talos' eyes were blank and hazy, his face confused. He took one lurching step towards the bulky wrestler before his eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched forwards, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Pythagoras was by his side in an instant, rolling the young father over with gentle but firm hands; checking for fever and feeling for a pulse automatically.

"What's wrong with him?" Hercules demanded as Jason made his own way around the table to the little group.

"Shock I believe," Pythagoras answered absently, continuing to check Talos over for injuries. "The head injury does not seem particularly bad – it is not deep nor particularly nasty – and I can find no fever and no other injuries." He looked up at his older friend. "I would very much like to get him onto a bed though."

Hercules grunted and picked Talos up from the floor, slinging the unconscious man's arm around his shoulders and starting to drag him across the room. Jason came up on the other side and made to take Talos' other arm. Hercules stopped and glared at his young friend.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"Helping you to move him," Jason answered with some confusion.

"Oh no you don't," Hercules grunted. "You're not lifting anything heavy until those ribs have fully healed. I'm not having you reinjuring yourself now."

"Hercules I'm fine," Jason protested.

"Just go and sit yourself back down," Hercules insisted. "I can manage without any help."

Jason rolled his eyes in annoyance. Sometimes he felt that Hercules was far more overprotective than he needed to be. After all Jason hadn't exactly been offering to carry Talos on his own – just to help Hercules balance the man properly – and he reckoned he could manage that without pulling on his ribs too much. He had absolutely no intention of sitting back down either – not if Cassie's life was at stake. So he followed behind his two friends towards Hercules' room, willing himself not to limp too badly – he had no intention of getting into an argument with either Hercules or Pythagoras because they believed he should be putting his feet up again, and no intention of telling either one of them that his knee was aching more than earlier and felt stiff.

Hercules deposited Talos on his own bed, puffing slightly from the effort; the man was certainly heavier than either Pythagoras or Jason, although Hercules was more than strong enough to cope. Pythagoras immediately swooped in to check the young father over for injuries he might have missed earlier.

"I need water and a cloth," he muttered to himself. "A cup of water for when he comes around will not go amiss either."

Jason's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he turned to make his way back out of Hercules' room to fetch the items Pythagoras required only to find himself restrained by a very firm and meaty hand.

"I thought I told you to sit down," Hercules groused with one eyebrow raised.

"I don't need to sit down," Jason argued, beginning to get more than a little cross at Hercules' constant nagging. "I've been sitting down for most of the day."

Hercules growled in frustration. The young man in front of him had turned stubbornness into an art form and while his older friend was well aware that it had got them all through some truly dangerous situations in the past, it often impacted badly upon Jason's wellbeing. Part of him understood of course; knew that a lot of his friend's wilful and wild independence and stubbornness sprang from a childhood where he had generally had no-one to rely on but himself; knew that the lad had had very little to call his own (even if he never openly told them as much) and that he therefore valued what he did have highly – and that his own independence was fairly high on the list. It didn't make protecting Jason any easier though – particularly when the thing he most needed to be protected from was himself.

Still challenging Jason was perhaps not the best idea, Hercules realised. Trying to force the young man to sit down would only result in him digging his heels in and getting that mulish expression on his face that told anyone in the vicinity that he was not going to back down no matter what. Over the last year his two friends had learned that when Jason got into that frame of mind alternative tactics needed to be deployed – and often the best they could hope for was to try to help him and thereby limit the damage. Know when to pick your battles Hercules reminded himself, recalling the advice his father had drummed into him so many years ago. This was certainly not something that was worth fighting over – not when he could back away now and attack from another angle.

Without another word the burly wrestler simply pushed past his younger friend and started to collect the things that Pythagoras needed, banging about the kitchen noisily. Pythagoras looked up from where he was still examining Talos with a sigh, hoping that Hercules was not about to break something important in his frustration; knowing that in this case his old friend's anger was borne of worry. Then he glanced across at Jason and sighed again. His dark haired friend was leaning against a table with his arms folded and the stubborn, grumpy expression he sometimes got gracing his features, his brows drawn together in a frown. Usually he would half sit on the edge of the table if they were talking in Hercules' room but the big man's nagging for him to sit down had drawn out the contrary side of Jason and now there was no way he was going to give in – even if sitting would clearly be more comfortable for him Pythagoras clinically noted, noticing the way that Jason had shifted most of his weight onto his good leg and spotting the badly concealed wince as he moved his right knee.

As usual Pythagoras would have to be the voice of reason; would have to play the peacemaker in their house. If he were being completely honest the mathematician would have to admit that it was not all that often that he was called upon to mediate between his two friends but he couldn't help but wish that on this occasion their timing had been better – that they had chosen a time when a friend was not potentially in danger. Of course the idea of anyone being threatened always brought Jason's protective nature to the fore and Hercules really should have realised that there was no way their sometimes strange friend was likely to back down under the circumstances, Pythagoras thought. He sighed again.

With one final clatter of pottery Hercules re-entered the room, a bowl and cloth in one hand and a cup in the other. He thrust both at Pythagoras semi-aggressively but had the good grace to look guilty when the young genius levelled a steady look at him, one eyebrow coolly raised.

"Thank you," Pythagoras said softly, eliciting an even more guilty look from the big man.

Hercules nodded awkwardly and retreated to the other side of the room, biting down hard on his own tongue to stop himself from saying something when he saw Jason shift uncomfortably, trying to keep the weight off his knee.

With gentle dextrous hands Pythagoras began to bathe away the blood from the wound on Talos' scalp, cleaning the trickle that had made its way down the side of the young merchant's face. The wound itself had already stopped bleeding; had already begun to close. It was a surface wound – probably the result of a swift blow designed to briefly incapacitate the man, Pythagoras decided – and would require no intervention on his part to heal well with no visible scar. As he mopped away the blood, Talos began to stir – moaning faintly with his head rolling from side to side as his eyes slowly began to flutter open. He blinked up at Pythagoras with wide blue eyes, confusion written on his face.

"Gently," the mathematician murmured. "You fainted. Give yourself some time to recover."

Talos, however, sat bolt upright in panic, swaying slightly where he sat.

"My daughter," he exclaimed clutching at Pythagoras once more. "Cassie…."

He moaned again, bringing one trembling hand to his forehead.

"Steady," Pythagoras said, placing a supportive arm around the man's shoulders. "Move slowly and you will find it easier."

"There's no time," Talos said desperately, his eyes roaming the room. "My daughter was taken. I have to find her."

"Who has taken her?" Jason asked intensely.

Pythagoras was pleased to notice that while none of them had been watching him Jason had half sat back on the table as he usually did, left foot balancing him on the floor while the right hung freely – thereby taking the weight off his bad leg.

"I don't know," Talos said, rubbing his forehead. "They came out of nowhere. I didn't see their faces properly."

"Start at the beginning," Pythagoras suggested. "Tell us everything."

"We returned to the city several days ago," Talos began. "I knew it was risky given the recent plague but I didn't feel I had much choice. The Amphigeneians were committing atrocities... the stories that some of the refugees had to tell… they torture their victims – rape the women – before they kill everyone… every man, woman and child. Those that survived did so because they ran and they hid… but the things they had seen…" he drew in a deep shuddering breath. "It seemed the lesser evil to bring Cassie back here. I knew that the Amphigeneians would come sooner or later but at least in Atlantis we had walls and people to protect us… soldiers." He fell silent.

"What happened?" Jason asked.

"Early this morning… after the horns had sounded the all clear… I went to inspect my workshop. Many of the seamstresses who work for me live in the quarters behind the workshop and I wanted to see for myself that they were alright… that they had everything they needed to see them through the siege," Talos paused again. "When my wife died I didn't have the first clue of how to look after a baby," he admitted. "The wonderful ladies from the workshop helped me… showed me how to do everything to look after Cassie… watched her for me so that I could get some sleep when she kept me up all night. They are less like employees and more like friends – like members of my family – and I had to know that they were safe. While we were there there was another attack on the walls. It was almost dark by the time the horns declared it safe to travel and the curfew bell was about to toll. I wanted to get Cassie home for the night – we have a widow and her daughter from a village some twenty leagues from here staying with us and it hardly seemed fair to abandon them – they are traumatised enough as it is and terrified whenever an alarm sounds. As we passed an alleyway at the edge of the agora four men jumped out and grabbed us both. I tried to fight… I really did… but they hit me over the head and they took Cassie." Talos clutched at Pythagoras again in his desperation, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.

"Breathe," the young genius instructed, rubbing firmly between the merchant's shoulder blades.

"What can you tell us about these men?" Hercules rumbled, his broad face dark and dangerous.

"I don't know," Talos almost wailed. "It was dark."

"Calm down," Pythagoras murmured, still gently rubbing the other man's back. "Think about it carefully. Anything you can remember might help to understand why they have taken Cassie… and may help to find her."

Talos swallowed hard and drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"They were taking to one another as they ran away," he said. "One of them used the word doúlos."

"Slavers!" Hercules hissed.

"Slavers?" Jason asked, looking at Pythagoras.

"They used the word 'doúlos'," Pythagoras answered as though that explained everything. On seeing his friend's confused look he went on in a patient tone. "It means slave."

"And you think that slavers took Cassie?" Jason asked incredulously. Of all the things he had experienced since arriving in Atlantis somehow slavery had never been something that he had come face to face with – and had never expected to. It still seemed so alien a concept to him – so far outside the realms of possibility or of his experience – that he somehow could not quite grasp it.

"Of course," Hercules rumbled.

"But what would they want with her?" Jason asked in confusion.

"The depth of your ignorance never fails to astound me," Hercules groused. "Cassie is a pretty little girl. A pretty little _blonde_ girl. There are places where the colour of her hair alone would add money to her asking price. She will probably be sold to be trained as a household slave… or there are always men that want children for…" he broke off as Pythagoras cleared his throat meaningfully, looking from the distraught Talos to Jason and then back to Hercules, his eyes telling the big man that he really shouldn't go any further. "Yes… well… there are other things they might want her for," Hercules finished lamely.

Jason's hands gripped the edge of the table he was leaning against so hard that his knuckles turned white. He had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what Hercules had been about to say and it turned his stomach – particularly given his own history.

"Are you alright?" Pythagoras asked gently, looking seriously at Jason.

"Yeah," Jason nodded, swallowing the bile that had risen unbidden in his throat. "Can you tell us anything else about these men?" he asked Talos.

"The leader had rotten teeth and a scar that ran from his right temple to his jaw," Talos said. "But anything else… I just don't know."

"Did you see which way they took Cassie?" Pythagoras piped up.

Talos swallowed hard.

"No," he admitted. "I was face down on the floor at the time. I only heard their voices. They were laughing." He shuddered, appearing to be on the verge of tears. "I think they wrapped her in a blanket and I could hear her screaming… Oh Gods I can still hear her scream…" he broke off, finally overcome.

"Well we're not going to find out anything by sitting here," Hercules declared picking up his sword. "If you're feeling up to it we'll go and have a look at the spot that you were attacked and see if we can't work out where these animals have taken your daughter… then I'll go and see if I can't round up Gelo and Kerkyon and maybe a few more of the boys."

Talos nodded and started to push himself to his feet. He squared his shoulders and looked around the room gratefully.

"Thank you," he said.

"We'll find her," Jason promised earnestly, hopping down from the table.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Hercules boomed. "You and him," he pointed at the startled Pythagoras, "are both staying here."

"Hercules," Jason growled, his face growing dark again.

"I'm not arguing about this," Hercules stated. "I don't want either of you out in the cold at the moment. His lungs aren't strong enough and I'm not having you risking crippling yourself by throwing yourself into a fight when that knee is still bad… and don't even try to say it's not hurting when I can see that it is." He glared at Jason. "None of us will be going anywhere until you sit yourself down at the table and relax."

"We don't have time for this," Jason said angrily.

"No we don't," Hercules agreed. "So the sooner you do what you're told the better for all of us… and the sooner I can start looking for this little girl."

For a moment it looked like Jason would carry on arguing. Then he threw himself down onto a stool with an angry huff of breath.

Hercules nodded and turned back to Talos.

"Let's go," he said as he barged his way out of the door with the worried father in tow.

Pythagoras sat down at the table and winced as he looked at his other friend. Jason had crossed his arms mutinously and was glaring at the table top. Pythagoras was not looking forward to trying to calm his friend down; usually Jason was fairly even tempered and sunny natured, but over the last couple of months he had been a little more volatile than usual – particularly if he'd been in the sort of dark mood that he'd woken up in this morning.

Suddenly Jason looked up with a half grin; a look of determination in his hazel eyes. Pythagoras did not like that look – it most definitely spelled trouble. Without a word Jason pushed himself up from the table and went over to the alcove that usually formed his 'bedroom' – although his bed was still currently in Pythagoras' room since no-one had yet thought to put it back where it belonged. He came back fairly quickly, with his breastplate on and his sword in hand.

"What are you doing?" Pythagoras asked incredulously.

"Going looking for Cassie," Jason answered calmly. "The more of us that are looking for her the quicker we'll find her."

"But Hercules said…"

"Actually Hercules said that he wouldn't go if I didn't sit down – which I did! He never said anything about staying here once he'd gone." Jason made his way to the door. "Are you coming or not?"

Pythagoras scrambled to his feet.

"Are you sure we will be doing the right thing?" he asked.

"Does a triangle have three sides?" Jason countered.

Pythagoras opened his mouth to launch into a discussion on triangles.

"Forget I said anything," Jason jumped in quickly.

"Actually triangles are very interesting," Pythagoras said. "There is something about their angles…."

"Pythagoras…"

"Yes of course," the mathematician sighed, grabbing his cloak. "Hercules is not going to be happy though," he added as he followed Jason out of the door.

* * *

><p>Hercules crept through the deserted streets with Talos in tow and his sword in his hand. He was relying on the torchlight from the buildings lining the streets to light his way; had not risked taking a torch himself so as not to alert the city guards to his presence. The city was after all under strict curfew and anyone found out after the curfew bell had rung was likely to be arrested with no questions asked. As he paused at a corner, peering around the edge of a wall to make sure that there were no guards waiting for him, Talos barrelled into his back and careened off into a stack of crates. It was only Hercules' bulk and natural strength that stopped him from being knocked forwards and he winced at the noise made by the clattering crates. Without a word he turned and glared crossly at the young merchant. The last thing they needed was to make a lot of noise and alert any unfriendly ears to their presence.<p>

"Sorry," Talos whispered, trying to right the crates he had fallen into without making any further noise.

Hercules turned back to the corner only to glance back with another dark glare as one of the crates Talos was now leaning against moved and made an unnaturally loud scraping noise in the darkness. Honestly this man was more clumsy than Pythagoras and Jason put together – and that was saying something given his blonde friend's habit of tripping over his own feet or dropping weaponry and the brunette lad's propensity for knocking fruit stands flying. Just what did Jason actually have against fruit anyway? There were times when it seemed all he had to do was look at a fruit seller to send their produce rolling in the dust. Hercules mentally shook himself, reminding himself to keep his mind on the task at hand.

"Right," the big man said, finally deciding that it was all clear, "where exactly were you attacked?"

Talos looked around the market place uncertainly.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said, his voice on the edge of hysteria. "They came out of an alleyway and dragged us down it a little way…"

Hercules swore under his breath, praying for patience. The man had had a shock, he reminded himself firmly, and had been hit over the head; it was not surprising really that he was a little fuzzy on some of the details – although Hercules couldn't help but think that even _Pythagoras_ would have taken more notice of his surroundings.

"Alright," he said. "Which direction were you coming from?"

"West," Talos answered promptly. "My workshop is in that direction." He waved a hand towards the one side of the agora.

"And where do you live?"

"To the south of the Canopic Way. Our home is near the baker's shop."

Hercules waved the thought of pies and pastries away. There were far more important considerations at the moment. His eyes narrowed as he looked out across the square.

"You would have been walking along that side of the agora then," he murmured, "and there's only one alleyway over there." He started to trot over, all but dragging the hapless young merchant with him.

In the alley when paused, peering about himself cautiously. This would be a good place for an ambush. Talos, however, rushed into the entrance and dropped to his knees, scooping something up and holding it out to Hercules with tears in his eyes.

"It's Arisbe," he said, his tone anguished.

Hercules looked at him in confusion.

"Cassie's favourite doll," Talos clarified. "She must have dropped her." He drew in a shuddering breath. "Cassie will be frightened without her."

Hercules dropped a sympathetic hand onto the man's shoulder.

"We'll find her," he rumbled. He looked out across the agora with thoughtfully, with troubled, narrowed eyes. "Atlantis is a big place," he murmured, "and they could have gone almost anywhere from here. All they would have to do would be to take one of the other streets leading away from the agora and they'd be away and clear."

"It's hopeless then," said Talos in despair.

"No," Hercules growled, "just a little more challenging. Come on," he added reaching down and pulling the young father to his feet, "I think it's about time I called in a few favours and we rounded up the troops."

* * *

><p>The Temple was far too crowded for Pasiphae's tastes. The usually tranquil place was bustling with people having been turned into a makeshift hospital for the duration of the siege. The practical side of the Queen could fully understand the reasoning for this – it was after all the largest building in Atlantis (with the exception of the Palace complex) and was certainly the most central and recognisable place both for the doctors to gather and the wounded to be brought – but it still irritated her beyond measure. She did, however, gain some comfort from the fact that if she found it inconvenient then the Oracle must find this invasion of what amounted to her home dreadfully annoying. Pasiphae smiled vindictively. No matter what the Seer said to try to justify her actions, the Queen would <em>never<em> forgive her for her part in stealing away her son and keeping his identity secret from her.

Everywhere Pasiphae looked there were people; men lying in beds; men with hideous gaping wounds who would not live the night, lying silent and still, or raving with fever, or screaming in agony; men with missing limbs, the ragged stumps cauterised to prevent excessive bleeding; soldiers with relatively minor injuries ready to be despatched back to the walls; and refugees from the outlying districts – the last ragged stragglers to arrive before the city gates were sealed for whom the floor of the Temple was the only place left to sleep – sitting in hopeless, helpless, traumatised groups, having lost everything except their lives. In many cases they had been forced to watch from hiding places as members of their families were tortured in the most brutal ways and killed. Pasiphae supposed she should have some sympathy but in fact their plight left her cold.

When had she become so callous? The hopeful but frightened young girl who had arrived at the gates of Atlantis with all the pomp and retinue due to a princess of Colchis would never have recognised herself now. Once she had told Ariadne that she had not been so very different to the Princess when she was young, and the irony was that she had been telling the truth. Would Minos' beloved daughter harden in the same way? Would she learn to lock away every emotion? To allow her heart to shrivel and grow cold? Pasiphae smiled bitterly. Somehow she could not see Jason allowing that to happen. How different might her own life have been if she had been allowed to experience the same sort of passion that her son and Ariadne clearly shared? They burned brightly, that pair, with a flame that nothing seemed able to quench, and the Queen found herself hoping that nothing ever would – not least because it suited her plans very well indeed to have Ariadne distracted by Jason.

That was not the only reason, however, much as Pasiphae hated to admit it. She knew only too well the desolation of being trapped in a marriage where love never grew and – in spite of her previous desire to see Ariadne married to Heptarian even though the girl hated the idea – she found that a tiny part of her was glad that Ariadne would be spared that feeling; that indignity. Pasiphae shook herself. She was growing soft. All of these feelings belonged in the ancient past, where they should have stayed. She had sacrificed so much in her quest for power – even to the point of sacrificing her humanity itself – that to allow weak thoughts and feelings to cause her to waver now was beneath her. Now above all she must be calm and in control. The perfect Queen.

Pasiphae looked about herself with distaste once again. If she could have she would have avoided coming to the Temple at all – at least until it was cleared of the peasantry and associated riffraff – but Minos had been adamant. It would be good for the city, he had said, to see the Royal Family praying together; to see them making offerings to the Gods. Politically Pasiphae supposed it was an astute move. It would rally the people; would make them believe that they had not been abandoned. It was just a pity that it would bring them into contact with so many of the masses. Not that Ariadne would mind, she thought somewhat spitefully, the girl seemed to enjoy slumming it in the streets.

Pasiphae had other reasons for being at the Temple too. No matter how much it galled her to do so, the Queen needed to consult the Oracle. Much as she had made plans for reconciling Minos to her son's existence and for introducing him to the reality of Jason slowly and carefully, circumstances had moved too fast and the situation was rapidly moving outside her control. Anaxandros' demands that the heir of Aeson be produced or the city surrendered to him had spurred Minos on to hunt for the boy – and Pasiphae was not altogether sure that she was ready for her husband to meet her son and knew that _Jason_ certainly was not. There would be no time to be gentle with the lad; no time to plan how he would be told or to break the news in her own way. Minos was right: they were playing for time and Jason would be an important playing piece in their game. No-one really expected Anaxandros to actually believe it if they did produce the lad; it was almost a given that he would accuse them of lying and renege on his offer, but it might encourage their allies to come to their aid; might encourage those who had supported Aeson but were lukewarm at best to Minos to come out of the woodwork and fight on their behalf. The boy would be a sort of living banner; a rallying point for their allies. Pasiphae almost smiled.

Now she just had to work out how best for Minos to 'discover' that Jason was her son, and that was where the blasted Oracle might come in handy. Surely the woman would see that they had moved beyond the point of _whether_ Minos would find out about Jason to _when_ he would find out. She claimed that everything she had done was to keep the boy safe but now she _must see_ the best way to keep him safe was to give him back to the mother he had been stolen from; to allow his stepfather to know who he was; to _use_ him in the best interests of the Oracle's beloved Atlantis. When it came down to it Pasiphae was under no illusions that the Oracle would only protect Jason for as long as it benefitted her; for as long as it benefitted her city. She had simply known the Seer for too long to believe anything else. Longer even than anyone now residing in the city knew.

Stepping forwards towards the altar beneath the great bronze bull that stood at one end of the main Temple, Pasiphae unclasped her cloak and thrust it at the nearest servant. Ariadne, she noted with growing horror, was helping to tend to a wounded soldier. The girl had better hope that her father did not see her, although Minos would undoubtedly find a reason to excuse his daughter's appalling lack of propriety and would punish those the girl was with instead. Pasiphae actually believed that that might be a better punishment for the girl – she would be deeply wounded by the knowledge that others had suffered on her behalf and by her actions. Minos was nowhere to be seen, however. He was probably in the sacred part of the Temple reserved for the King, where Poseidon's son could pray uninterrupted by the rest of the world and could seek to intercede with the God on their behalf.

Pasiphae moved forwards to the main alter. Standing with palms outstretched she began the ritual incantations and prayers to Poseidon, pausing to pour a libation on the bomos before returning to her prayers and devotions. For all her faults and all her machinations Pasiphae respected and feared the Gods – although she personally found her stepdaughter's more ostentatious piety excessive and nauseating.

"Do you think that the Gods have forgiven you for what you tried to do?" the Oracle's clear voice took her by surprise and much to her own annoyance Pasiphae could not help but jump.

"You attempted to kill Poseidon's servant," the Seer went on. "To claim power for yourself. You violated our most sacred laws. Do you ask for forgiveness now?"

"I ask for nothing," Pasiphae bit back. "I pray for the city. I pray that we will be delivered from this siege."

"And do you not think that this is the Gods' judgement upon you and upon the King for all you have done to seize power?" the Oracle enquired.

"This is not the work of the Gods," Pasiphae answered sharply. "This is the work of man."

"Perhaps," the Oracle said softly. She came forwards to stand beside the Queen.

Pasiphae immediately tensed. It had been many years since the relationship between the two women could be described in any way as cordial.

"And do you also pray for your son?" the Oracle asked gently.

"Yes." Pasiphae's response was soft and sad, taking even her by surprise.

The Oracle half-smiled.

"Even though I have foreseen that he will destroy you?" she asked.

"He is my son," Pasiphae answered simply.

"Come," the Oracle said. "There are things we must discuss."

In silence that seemed to stretch ahead of them the two women crossed the floor of the Temple and began the descent that would lead them to the chamber of the Oracle cut into the rock upon which the Temple and Palace stood. The last time Pasiphae had been here she had come in anguish rather than the anger with which she usually visited the Oracle; her son's existence new in her mind, tearing at her thoughts and heart. At the bottom of the steps she paused. The Oracle herself had gone on ahead and knelt by her scrying bowl, tattooed hands making mystical patterns in the water. Pasiphae nearly laughed. These were the tricks the Oracle employed with the masses to impress the gullible. She, however, knew where the woman's visions stemmed from; knew how rare a gift it was without adding the layers of mystery to it; knew that the secrets of the Oracle's predictions were both far simpler and far more complex than anything the multitude could have imagined. Even the King and his brat of a daughter did not know how the visions worked, but the Queen knew all too well; had known for longer than she cared to think.

"Do not take me for a gullible fool," she said sharply. "Your words and your mysticism will not scare me."

"Very well," the Oracle answered, looking at the Queen serenely with the same half-smile as before.

"We need to talk about Jason," Pasiphae said.

* * *

><p>Pythagoras trundled after Jason through the still dark streets. If he hadn't known better he would never have believed that his friend had injured his knee a week or so earlier. Jason was moving at speed – a speed his friend was struggling to keep up with – and bore no sign of the heavy limp he had been walking with earlier that day. Yet as they trotted under the light of a torch, attached to the side of a closed tavern, Pythagoras couldn't help but notice the little lines of pain around his friend's eyes; the strain he was so clearly trying to keep from showing. The mathematician worried at his lip.<p>

"We could go back," he ventured, knowing that he was likely to be rebuffed.

"You can if you want to," Jason answered quickly. "But I promised Talos that we'd find Cassie and that's what I'm going to do."

"Jason, you are still in pain," Pythagoras tried. "No-one will think any less of you if you go back."

"I will," Jason said firmly. He did, however, slow his pace slightly noticing that Pythagoras was a little more out of breath than usual.

At the corner of the agora the two young men paused, peering around themselves.

"Where would Talos and Cassie have been when they were attacked?" Pythagoras murmured, half to himself.

"Well they live down that way," Jason answered, pointing.

"How do you know that?"

Jason grimaced.

"Cassie dragged me back there to play house one day," Jason muttered in embarrassment.

Pythagoras tried desperately hard not to laugh at the horrified expression on his friend's face.

"Right," he said. "Let's check on the far side of the agora then. If we start on that side and work our way around the corner there are no more than three or four alleys to look at."

"Fair enough," Jason answered.

As they started across the square a noise made them stop, Jason dragging Pythagoras behind a stall. Hercules and Talos came out from one of the side streets. The young father had something in his hand and was running a despairing hand through his blonde hair.

"We'll go and see Meriones first," Hercules said as he drew level with the stall where he two young friends were hiding. "He should know where I can find Gelo and Kerkyon and knowing him he'll want to help anyway… I reckon he knows enough people around the city that we should be able to get a reasonable search party together. Then we start looking in the streets leading away from the agora."

Talos nodded, still clutching the cloth covered object in his hand. As he and Hercules passed by Jason winced, having got a good look at what the young man was carrying.

"Arisbe," he murmured.

"Arisbe?" Pythagoras asked.

"Cassie's doll. She never goes anywhere without it."

"Oh," Pythagoras said, unsure of what else he could say.

Jason sighed. He peered around the end of the stall, checking that the other two were out of sight.

"Come on," he said sharply. "At least we know where to start now."

He trotted across the agora with Pythagoras in tow. Once they were in the alleyway they stopped, looking around. For a few minutes neither one of them spoke. Jason poked at a pile of rubbish with the tip of his sword.

"This is useless," he burst out. "We're never going to find her this way." He paused, poking at the pile a little more vigorously. "She was screaming," he muttered to himself.

Pythagoras froze.

"What did you just say?" he asked.

"I said we aren't going to find her this way," Jason answered.

"No, after that," Pythagoras said.

"She was screaming," Jason repeated.

"She was screaming," Pythagoras murmured. "Of course! They didn't take her out into the agora. It's obvious!"

"Not to me," Jason said in confusion.

"They took Cassie just before the curfew bell," Pythagoras explained. "They would have needed to get her off the street as quickly as possible or risk running into a patrol… so they must have had an escape route planned and a hiding place nearby."

"That doesn't mean that they didn't take her across the agora," Jason stated.

"Think about it Jason. She was screaming. What would people do if they heard a child screaming like that?"

"Erm…"

"They would look," Pythagoras said. "The slavers couldn't risk anyone seeing them carrying a screaming little girl because they might be remembered."

"So they couldn't take her too far and they couldn't take her too near any houses," Jason said.

"Exactly," Pythagoras exclaimed. "Most of the streets and alleys that lead from the agora are in residential areas. Only this side backs on to the less populated industrial area… and the only alley on this side is this one."

"So they must have carried on down this alley then."

"Yes," Pythagoras said brightly, "and look… Hercules missed this." He pulled a torn piece of fabric from a protruding nail sticking out of the wall further down the alley.

Jason looked at him blankly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a piece of blanket," Pythagoras stated confidently, "and Talos said that he thought they'd wrapped Cassie in a blanket."

"It might not mean anything," Jason murmured. "It could have been there for ages."

"I do not think so," Pythagoras argued. "It is a fresh tear. If it had been there for some time the edges would be worn and dirty… We are lucky to find this."

"Maybe," Jason said dubiously.

"I believe that Hercules may lead the search party in the wrong direction," Pythagoras said, "and by the time they realise the mistake the kidnappers will have had ample time to get away. They must believe that there is a way to get Cassie out of the city in spite of the siege." He paused. "If we had done as Hercules wanted and stayed at home this might have been found too late."

"Well then it's lucky I don't like being told what to do," Jason answered smugly.

"I fear that Hercules will still be cross, however," Pythagoras retorted, "and we do not know how many men are in this band of slavers. Talos saw four but there could easily be others. We should find Hercules and bring him here – along with anyone he has managed to gather with him."

"It might be too late by then," Jason said firmly. "You said it yourself. You can go looking for Hercules if you want but I'm going on."

"No," Pythagoras said reluctantly. "We must stick together. It will do no good if we all end up in different places. You might need my help when we do find the men who are holding Cassie." He paused again. "Hercules will undoubtedly be angry with both of us," he said again, somewhat unnecessarily.

Jason sighed and peered into the darkness of the alleyway.

"Alright," he said. "We'll see where this alley leads then." He nudged Pythagoras in a friendly manner. "Come on Nancy Drew," he said cheerfully.

"What is a 'Nancy Drew'?" Pythagoras asked as they started to move again, walking into the darkness.

Jason chuckled.

"It doesn't matter," he said lightly. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Hercules raced through the streets now that he had a firm destination in mind with Talos hard on his heels. While part of him acknowledged the need for caution – the need to avoid any of the patrols that routinely patrolled the city streets on a curfew night – he was also well aware that every minute counted and the longer Castianiera was in the hands of the slavers the less chance they would have of getting her back again. At a corner he paused to catch his breath, nearly doubled over as he gasped for air, and heard rather than saw his companion doing the same, their breath coming in puffs of steam in the cold air.<p>

Suddenly the horns began to cry again. Another attack was about to begin. Hercules swore loudly.

"Just perfect," he said sarcastically, knowing that the confusion would make it easier for the kidnappers to spirit Cassie away to another location. While he did not believe that they would risk trying to get her out of the city during a battle itself they might well move her to a different location further away from the agora and safer for them.

Without another word he straightened and started off at a trot again, more determined than ever to get to Meriones' house and find people to help with the search. He rounded the next corner at speed and bounced off the broad chest of a man coming the other way. The broad _armoured_ chest of a man coming the other way… at the head of a troop of guards. Hercules grimaced and mentally swore. The one thing that he had wanted to avoid happening at all costs had happened – they had run slap bang into a patrol. Beside him he felt Talos skid to a halt and half turned to look at the merchant, noticing that the man's face was as white as a sheet and his eyes were large and worried.

The leader of the guard patrol was of more than average height – certainly taller then Hercules and he was far from short himself – and definitely middle years; his hair greyed and his face grim and careworn. He carried himself with the cool efficiency but alert stance of a trained warrior and his eyes were watchful and intelligent, his sword already loose and in his hand. A professional soldier then – certainly more so than many of the current city guard. Hercules had the uncomfortable feeling that he was in the presence of a dangerous man. With one cool look the patrol leader looked the burly wrestler up and down, barely sparing a glance for Talos – clearly knowing which one of them would pose the greater threat.

"The curfew bell sounded some time ago," he said in a firm baritone, "and an attack on the city is imminent. Can you not hear the warning horns?"

"Yes," Hercules answered. "Sorry… we've been to… erm…"

"It is my duty to ensure that the streets are safe and the houses protected from looters," the soldier continued. "Can you give me any reason why I should not arrest you right now?"

Hercules gulped. It would do no good at all if he and Talos were arrested and carted off to the cells; would only serve to endanger little Cassie even more. He had once told Jason that no good ever came from telling the truth but right here and now it was the only thing he could think of – although what good it would do he did not know.

"My friend and his daughter have recently returned to Atlantis," he began. "While the fever was gripping the city they were in the countryside but they came back when the Amphigeneians invaded. My friend's daughter is only six. She's a lovely little blonde thing. Anyway they were coming back across the agora just before the curfew bell when they were attacked. Talos here was hit over the head and little Cassie was stolen from him. There was a group of men… we think they were slavers from what he heard them say… and now they have his daughter. We were on our way to get help from some other friends of mine when we ran into you… we were going to look for the girl."

"Is this true?" the soldier asked Talos.

"Yes sir," Talos said desperately. "Please. Help us. Cassie is my world. She is all I have."

The soldier nodded and re-sheathed his sword. He sighed.

"Yours is not the first tale of this kind that I have heard in the last few days," he admitted. "There are others… all refugees… newcomers to the city. Their children have gone missing. Spirited away from them." He looked at Talos again. "You are the first to have been directly attacked, however. The other children have gone missing from the marketplace while their parents tried to barter for goods. At first I believed that the children had simply wandered off and got lost but there is too much of a pattern now."

"You'll let us be on our way then?" Hercules asked hopefully.

"I cannot allow you to roam the streets after curfew," the soldier answered. "But," he carried on, effectively cutting off any argument from the two men in front of him, "this situation cannot be allowed to continue. There are many who believe that the King is too busy to deal with what they feel is a trifling matter but I believe that this matter must be put before him; he must be made aware. If he allows me to leave my current duties then we will see if we cannot find your daughter for you." He clapped Talos firmly on the shoulder, carefully manoeuvring the man into the centre of the patrol of troops.

"Come," the soldier continued, "we will go to him now."

With the troops drawn up around them, Hercules and Talos had no option but to follow the leader of the soldiers down the street heading back towards the Palace and Temple complex, much as the delay chafed them.

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><p>The alleyway had been dark, narrow and winding and had led out onto an equally winding street deep within the heart of the industrial district. Pythagoras shivered as the winter wind stirred up the debris and detritus of city life and pulled his cloak more firmly about himself, manfully resisting the urge to cough as the dust irritated his throat. By the Gods it was cold tonight. Looking across at Jason as they hurried down the street he realised with a start that his friend was not wearing his cloak; had come out of the house wearing just his tunic and breastplate. While that would undoubtedly free Jason's sword arm and make any potential fighting easier, Pythagoras couldn't help but wonder at the fact that he didn't even look cold. Surely Jason should be freezing dressed like that? Besides they weren't actually planning on doing any fighting. As they had travelled down the alley Pythagoras had elicited an agreement from his dark haired friend that as soon as they had discovered where little Cassie was hidden one (or preferably both) of them would go and fetch Hercules and whatever other help the burly wrestler had managed to rustle up.<p>

Somehow Pythagoras got the impression that Jason had simply forgotten to bring a cloak. He frowned. Much as he hated to admit it he couldn't help but agree with Hercules – Jason really did have no real sense of self-preservation and was completely incapable of considering his own needs. He shook his head in exasperation.

A sudden noise behind them sent Jason into a darkly recessed doorway, pulling the startled Pythagoras with him and placing a finger to his own lips, communicating the need for complete silence with his eyes. Pythagoras scarcely dared breathe as the noise came closer – heavy tramping feet and soft but harsh voices. The voices drew level with where the two young men were concealed and stopped.

"Damn it's cold tonight," one of them grunted.

"That's good," a second voice growled. "It'll keep most of the guards off the streets." He laughed, a harsh sound. "Our brave city guards are not known for braving harsh weather," he added.

The first voice sniggered its agreement.

"Did you get her stashed with the others?"

"Yeah," the second voice sneered. "She'll raise a pretty penny too with that gold hair. There's rich merchants in Persia as would pay a fortune to have a slave with hair like that… and if not there's many a brothel that'd take her too… pity we couldn't get any boys too though… they like them in the brothels of Athens."

Pythagoras could hear Jason's breathing change; a harsh rasping note that had not been there before. In the darkness he put a restraining but comforting hand on his friend's arm and felt Jason cover it with his own hand, squeezing his silent thanks for Pythagoras' support.

"Best of it is she's a refugee child too," the second voice went on, "so no-one'll really notice she's missing. I mean who would they tell anyway? No-one's going to care about a child that's not even from the city. They're all far too busy with this siege."

"Hmm," the first voice grunted. "We'd better be getting back soon. They'll be missing us."

"You really think so?"

"We've got the wine," the first voice pointed out.

The horns began to sound the alarm for an imminent attack. The first man swore.

"Come on," he said to his companion, "that'll bring the guards out. We've got to get back and off the street."

The sounds of two sets of feet pounded away down the street. Jason jumped out of the doorway before Pythagoras even saw him move and hared off after them. If he was feeling any pain from his injured leg now he certainly wasn't showing it the mathematician thought grimly, desperately trying to keep up. He was out of breath before he even reached the next corner and stopped for a second to allow the stars to fade from in front of his eyes. Rounding the bend he found himself in a deserted street with no sign that his friend had ever passed that way at all – although Pythagoras knew that Jason must have come this way only moments before.

"Jason!" He hissed. "Jason, where are you?"

He was met by silence. Turning in a slow circle the young genius looked about himself helplessly. He was completely alone.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N This chapter is a day late... I'm sorry. Somehow time seems to have got away from me this week. Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I've tried to respond personally to as many of them as I can but for jmp, Angel, Dawn and anyone else that I haven't been able to thank personally I'd like to do so here. Oh and I'd like to reassure Angel that I have no intention of giving up on this story but at the moment real life is intruding a bit and my updates can't quite be as frequent as they used to be... I'm sorry.

That's quite enough waffle from me I think. Please enjoy this chapter and don't forget to let me know what you think of it...

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><p>Jason careened down another narrow winding street without considering where he was going or what he was doing. The moment the conversation between the slavers was over and they had run off he had raced after them without another thought, although by some miracle his natural instincts were keeping him just back out of their sight and somehow they failed to hear his pounding feet – possibly because their own running drowned him out. As soon as the two villains' talk had turned to selling children to brothels his mind has shut down almost entirely and for an instant he had been back in another dark and dingy alleyway what felt like a million miles from where he was now with Hector's hot breath on the back of his neck. He shuddered involuntarily. It had only been Pythagoras' warm hand on his arm that had kept him grounded in reality – that had stopped him from jumping out of the doorway where they had been hidden to confront the men with his sword – and he had never felt so grateful to his friend as he did right now. Confronting the kidnappers at that point would have done no good whatsoever; would have resulted in them losing what little chance they had of finding Cassie.<p>

In the back of his mind Jason was incredibly glad that Hercules wasn't here to see this. The big man would definitely have had something to say about his young friend trying to run down cluttered alleyways when in actual fact _walking_ was still a bit of an issue. Although he was not letting it slow him down his knee felt decidedly less than stable and he was aware that the pounding he was currently giving it would not be helping it to heal in any way, shape or form. It had nearly given way on more than one occasion and had sent him sideways, bouncing off the edges of walls painfully; picking up multiple small bruises and scrapes that he couldn't really feel now with the adrenaline coursing through his system but would undoubtedly become aware of later – if only because he had the distinct feeling that Hercules would make sure he knew where each and every one was. Lately the big man seemed to take it almost as a personal insult whenever Jason let himself get hurt.

Not that he ever did it on purpose, mind you. He wasn't a masochist after all – just incredibly good at finding difficult situations it seemed, or having them find him. He never really intended any of it; never started the day thinking "what sort of monster can I go off to fight today" or "leaping over cattle looks like fun… I must give it a go". The Oracle could waffle on about his destiny all she liked but there were definitely days when Jason thought he was just plain jinxed… and it wasn't enough that he always seemed to end up in these situations, he had to drag his friends into them every time too. Jason sighed. He really didn't deserve having such good friends as either Pythagoras or Hercules for all the trouble he caused them.

Tearing around another corner, deep in the heart of the industrial area of Atlantis, Jason tried to drag his mind back to the task at hand. As he entered the street he slowed, however. Where had the men gone? They hadn't been that far ahead of him and should still be in sight in the street. The street was empty though, which raised another question – where was Pythagoras? The last time Jason had checked (which admittedly had been just after he started chasing the slavers, he realised with a guilty start) the young genius had been right behind him, but now he was nowhere in sight. Jason slowly trotted back to the corner, very much aware that his knee was starting to throb abominably once more, and peered around it into the street he had just come from. There was still no sign of Pythagoras.

The young hero bit at the edge of his thumbnail worriedly. How had he failed to notice that he'd lost Pythagoras? His blonde friend was still not quite well and definitely vulnerable and he'd effectively abandoned him in the streets of Atlantis at a time when the city was under attack. Guilt gnawed at Jason. Pythagoras hadn't even brought a weapon with him and now he was out there somewhere, alone and without any means of protection. Jason really should go back to look for him. The only problem with that being that he really had no idea of where he himself was. His headlong dash had been done without taking notice of what was around him in his desperation to keep up with the slavers; to save Cassie from a dreadful fate; to protect her at least in part because no-one had ever been there to protect him. Right now what that meant was that he was completely and utterly lost. Jason looked around, still chewing at a thumbnail.

The kidnappers couldn't have got so far ahead of him that they had already turned the next corner and he could no longer hear their pounding feet. Which meant, of course, that they must have gone into a building somewhere along this street. Should he check or should he try to go back for Pythagoras though? Indecision clawed at him and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Yes Pythagoras might potentially be in danger but Cassie _definitely_ _was_. The mathematician was likely to either follow Jason (in which case he should be here fairly shortly – and probably with much more idea of where _here_ actually was) or, more likely, to head for Meriones' house to fetch Hercules. Perhaps his best plan then was to try to work out where the men had gone; to try to work out where they were holding Cassie; and then to try to retrace his steps and find his blonde friend.

Decision made Jason turned back towards the street where he had lost the kidnappers, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Where could they have gone? They street seemed to be lined with small warehouses – buildings where the local merchants routinely stored their wares – and as such there shouldn't be all that many doorways. It was a long street, however, and Jason found himself facing perhaps ten or twelve doors to check out. One door looked very much like another and there was really no indication of which one the men might have entered. He'd have to check them all then, he decided firmly, no matter how long that took. As he started back down the street, however, he was rocked by a sudden wave of pressure in his head – a wave that disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

Jason stopped and took a deep breath, trying desperately hard to regain some measure of control. What the hell had that been? He looked down the street again. One door now seemed to look a little different from the rest, although he could not have explained why. Slowly he approached it and stopped in front, his hand hovering near the latch. This was ridiculous. The door was no different from any of the others in the street, so why was he suddenly so convinced that it was the right one? In his mind's eye he could almost see them carrying Castianiera in through this door, her small body hidden by a blanket, her screams muffled by the cloth and growing quieter as she grew tired.

He swallowed hard; his imagination was playing tricks on him again. It hadn't happened for a long time now. Jason could vaguely remember sometimes seeing things that weren't there as a young child; getting strange feelings about people and places that he saw; but it was just an overactive imagination – that's what his Dad had said anyway. In the years that followed his Dad's disappearance the strange dreams that he sometimes had and the daydreams where he saw (and sometimes spoke to) people who weren't there (imaginary friends Chloe had said) had helped him to cope with his everyday life, and gradually they had faded as all young children's imaginings eventually do; had disappeared completely when he no longer needed them – when he grew old enough to know the difference between illusion and reality. So why was he thinking of them now? Why did it feel so much like déjà vu? Like illusion and reality were about to come crashing into each other?

Jason shook himself. He was still a bit out of sorts after those weird dreams last night – had been all day really. He'd managed to put his anxiety and dark mood to one side this evening while they'd had dinner and Hercules had told stories, but now in the darkness of the street everything seemed to come back in full force. That feeling of unnamed dread – that something unpleasant was heading his way – gripped him once more. For God's sake get a grip of yourself, he thought. This isn't going to help anyone. With a hand more steady than he felt he pushed down on the latch, half expecting the door to be locked. If it was then he would know that all these weird feelings – all this nervousness – was pointless; that his imagination was simply in overdrive.

The door swung open.

It didn't mean anything Jason told himself – just someone being careless and forgetting to lock a door. Still it wouldn't hurt to have a bit of a look about… just in case as it were. He slipped in through the dark opening, pulling the door behind him until it was almost closed – so close enough in fact that a casual observer from the outside would probably fail to notice in the darkness that it was not shut completely. The room inside was pitch black and Jason stood for a minute, holding onto the door latch with one hand, as his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

As his eyes adjusted and the room became clearer, Jason became aware of the fact that this was not the simple warehouse that he had initially believed. The room he stood in was small – much smaller than he would have expected – and largely empty. On the far side there was an archway that seemed to open onto a set of stairs which descended below the level of the street. This place reminded Jason of the entrance to Kyros' lair where he and his friends had been taken as they tried to free Medusa. That particular adventure had not had the happy ending that they had hoped for and Jason couldn't help but hope that this time around there might be a better outcome. He crossed the room on silent feet and peered down the stairwell. There was little to see but somewhere up ahead a torch or lantern flickered and faint voices echoed up out of the darkness. Jason started to creep down the stairs slowly, praying to whatever gods were listening that he was in the right place and was not about to burst in on some poor unsuspecting merchant going about his business. Somehow he didn't think that would happen though – an honest merchant would have a warehouse stocked with goods and not an empty room with a narrow staircase descending into the earth.

As he stole closer to the flickering light the voices became distinct. It was definitely the two men from earlier and several others from the sound of it. He crept onwards, keeping to the shadows, knowing that he needed to know what he was facing here. The stairs opened out into a long corridor. About halfway down it a single solitary torch hung, suspended from a metal loop protruding from the wall, casting light over an open archway. Jason stole along the corridor, trying to avoid the light as much as possible and to blend in with the shadows. Near the door was a lone barrel – a remnant perhaps of a time when this place had actually been used for the storage of goods – which Jason ducked down behind, trying hard to avoid yelping as his knee protested the movement. He peered around the side and in through the doorway.

The arch opened out into a reasonable sized room, well lit and warmed with braziers. There were at least ten men in the room that Jason could count – and he couldn't see the whole room from his vantage point. He ducked back behind the barrel again. Being honest that was really a few more than he could handle even when fully fit. Now though it would be pretty much impossible. The sensible thing to do would be to back out and try to work out where he was and from there find his friends; to lead a proper rescue party back here. The problem being that he wasn't entirely sure if they were actually holding Cassie here and if they were there was the chance that they would use the chaos of the battle on the city walls to move her. If he was gone when that happened – if he was searching for Hercules – they would never find her again.

Pythagoras would come, he decided. Sooner or later the mathematician would find and join him. Whether it was on his own or in the company of their wrestler friend didn't really matter. If Pythagoras were alone then either he or Jason could go and find Hercules while the other one kept watch, and if he was with the big man and any hastily assembled rescue party then so much the better. All he had to do now was try to find out whether or not Cassie was here and leave some kind of sign to let Pythagoras know which door to try.

Quietly he pushed himself to his feet and slunk past the doorway, keeping to the dark shadows on the far side of the corridor and praying to whatever gods happened to be listening that no one in the room would turn around or look too hard at the shadows. The kidnappers inside appeared to be playing with dice, drinking and laughing raucously. It seemed obscene to Jason that they could be having such fun when they had done something so vile. He bit down hard on the instinct that told him to dive headlong into the room and attack the slavers inside. That would do no good at all. Soon though, he promised himself; as soon as Cassie and any other captives – because he was not so naïve as to think she would be the only one – were safe he would come back and rain down hell on these creatures (he couldn't bring himself to think of them as men).

For once his luck seemed to hold. There was no outcry from the room and by the time he rounded the corner at the end of the corridor he breathed a sigh of relief. Ahead the passageway forked. Jason stopped. Right or left? The pull he felt towards the left fork was almost physical. He shrugged. It would hardly be the weirdest thing that had happened to him if it did turn out to be the correct passage and if not he could easily backtrack and go down the other one.

Decision made he headed off again. There was no need to try to keep to the shadows now – this passage was not lit. Maybe that meant it was not the right one? But _something_ kept pulling him onwards. Not far into the passage he saw a door. It was bound to be locked, he reasoned; the slavers would not want to risk their precious merchandise getting away. To his surprise, however, the latch gave easily under his hand and the door swung inwards without a sound. Jason smiled ruefully. He had half expected it to creak loudly like some bad old horror film. Clearly though the hinges of _this_ door were well oiled and the door itself saw regular use. He slipped inside.

With growing horror he looked around. Everywhere he looked there were what could only be described as _cages_ – little wooden cages – and each cage was occupied by a girl. There were fifteen or twenty of them in the room; all of differing ages – the oldest must have been thirteen or fourteen and the youngest only two or three. The older girls were watching him with hate filled but hopeless eyes. Jason's head reeled and he resisted the urge to be sick. Now more than ever he longed to storm back through the corridor and wreak havoc with the creatures upstairs. First though he had a job to do; he had to ensure that these children were safe and were returned to their families.

Then he caught sight of a flash of golden hair in one of the cages.

"Cassie?" he called softly.

Castianiera raised her head. She had clearly been crying and the image was so similar to the one from his dream last night – the one of little Cassie sobbing in a small room – that he nearly gasped out loud.

"J-j-jason?" the child sobbed.

Jason rushed over to the child trying to shush her in case anyone was walking past.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wincing at the idiocy of his own question. Of course she was not alright, he chided himself. How could she be alright under the circumstances?

"I… I… I w-w-want my Daddy."

"I know," Jason said. "We'll get you out of here and back to him soon. He sent me to look for you. We've all been looking for you… Hercules, Pythagoras and me. Hercules has gone to rustle up a rescue party and we'll have you out of here as quick as anything."

"Do you know him?" One of the other girls asked, a sharp eyed child of around thirteen.

"Of course," Cassie answered. "This is my friend Jason. He plays with me."

"Have you really come to get us out?" another little girl asked.

"Yes," Jason answered earnestly. "I promise I'm going to get you all out of here."

"Why?" the first girl asked suspiciously.

"Because he's a hero, silly," Cassie said matter-of-factly. "That's what my Daddy said when you rescued me from the harbour."

Jason blushed and looked at the floor, suddenly finding himself the object of scrutiny of all the girls in the room.

"Cassie," he muttered awkwardly, "I didn't do anything special."

"But you're here now to save us aren't you?" the second little girl said.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "Now listen, are there any more of you?"

"I don't think so," the first girl said. "I heard Sabas – the leader – saying that he wanted a full shipment before he moved us out of the city. When they brought _her_ in earlier," she nodded towards Cassie, "one of them said to another one that she was the last and they'd be moving us tomorrow. There was something about a truce starting tomorrow? I'm not really sure what they were talking about."

Jason moved over to her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Amathea," the girl said. "My parents are farmers. We came here from our home because they thought it would be safer."

"I'm Jason. I promise we'll get you out of here. I'm going to try to open these cages now and then I need to go back to wait for my friends but I _will_ be back for you. I just need you to keep as quiet as possible and keep your heads down no matter what you hear alright?"

"Yes," Amathea answered. "I'll keep them quiet."

"Good girl," Jason said. He used the tip of his sword to lever open the lock as quietly as he could manage and helped the girl to step out of the cage and stand up. "How long have you been here?"

"Three days," Amathea answered. "I was at the market looking to trade some of our wares when I was taken."

Jason nodded and carried on opening cages.

"Do you have a knife?" Amathea asked.

Jason frowned.

"Yeah," he said.

"Give it to me," the girl demanded.

Jason produced his hunting knife from in his belt and handed it to the girl. She took it with a half-smile and started on the cages on the other side of the room.

"I can open these," she said confidently. "You go and sort out our captors."

Jason grinned at the girl's spirit. Then he staggered back slightly as he was hit by a flying Cassie, released from the cage she had been held in, throwing her arms around his legs. Without even thinking Jason reached down and caught her up into his arms, smiling as she hugged him.

"Stay here with Amathea and the other girls and I'll be back to take you to your Daddy before you know it," he said putting the girl back on her feet.

Cassie nodded bravely and stepped away, still sniffling slightly.

Jason nodded.

"I'll be back," he said softly.

Back in the corridor he stopped and tried to regain control over his emotions. He couldn't afford to fall apart now. He drew in a shaky breath and set off again. As he approached the brightly lit room he slowed again, once more taking to the shadows and creeping past as quietly as he could. Once again his luck held and he made it up into the room at street level without incident. He slipped back out into the street and looked around. How could he make sure that his friends knew where he was? Suddenly he grinned. If Pythagoras was going to be there, there was only one way really. With the tip of his sword he scratched a triangle into the door and added his best rendition of a pie inside is just in case Hercules was on his own. He had to admit that it was distinctly wonky but hopefully Hercules would still know what is was.

Job done Jason slipped back inside and made his way back down the stairs and over to the open archway. Crouching down again, he bit back a groan. God his knee was painful and had definitely swollen again. He took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed hard, settling in to wait and watch until the cavalry hopefully arrived.

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><p>Pythagoras looked up and down the empty street, worrying at his lip. Surely Jason couldn't have gone far? There really was no way he should be able to run on that knee at all much less run fast. But this was Jason, Pythagoras reminded himself. His friend seemed to have a habit of doing the impossible. The young mathematician suspected that his brunette friend was running on sheer willpower and gut instinct at the moment; allowing his emotions to rule. Hercules really shouldn't have made that ill thought out suggestion that Cassie might have been taken for purposes other than becoming a servant; he should have known that it would set Jason off. After all it really wasn't all that long since the incident with Alektryon and the resultant buried memories it had stirred up in Jason. Pythagoras had a feeling that no matter what state he was in Jason would do almost anything to stop someone else from having to go through what he had done.<p>

Still he really wasn't in a condition to be fighting a group of slavers. If he had been in any way fit he would have been added to the list to serve on the walls in the siege and the fact that he hadn't been spoke volumes. What would happen if Jason, alone and hampered by injury, came face to face with the slavers? Pythagoras had no doubt that his heart would rule his head and he would jump in to try to rescue little Cassie even against overwhelming odds. The best that his blonde friend could hope for was that Jason might wait for backup – maybe. He knew that Hercules was trying to round up a group of rescuers and he must know (or soon would) that he and Pythagoras had lost one another, so hopefully he would find out where Cassie was being held and wait for his friends rather than rashly doing anything on his own. Hopefully.

So the question was should Pythagoras follow Jason to find out where he had gone or should he look for Hercules first? He knew that Hercules had gone to Meriones but if the big man needed to round up people he would clearly move on from there and Pythagoras wouldn't know where he had gone… but Meriones would. That is if he didn't go to round up helpers himself, which Pythagoras had to admit he was likely to do. He sighed. Back to square one. They _would_ have to come back through the agora though and he would be able to catch them then. He smiled in relief, then frowned as he listened to the ever increasing noise of the war horns. The sounds of battle could not reach here but he had no doubt that on the walls things were far from peaceful. This was not a good night to be out on the streets.

He shook himself. What was his next move then? Find Hercules now, he decided, and then go in search of their dark haired friend. He shook his head ruefully. No matter whether their actions _did_ find Cassie Pythagoras had a feeling that Hercules would have a few choice words for both him and Jason when he caught up with them. Pythagoras wasn't entirely sure he could blame the bulky wrestler either. Neither one of them was really well enough to be out on the cold streets at night when there was trouble in the city; neither one of them was really in a position to defend themselves – especially as he had once again forgotten to bring a weapon with him. In the kitchen of their home it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world to go along with Jason; to come and search for Cassie themselves; to add an extra couple of pairs of eyes looking for clues – and he _had_ worked out the most important clue so far, he reminded himself, surely that would go some way to lessening his older friend's ire? Pythagoras sighed. No, Hercules would still be exasperated and annoyed and would show it in his own inimitable Hercules style – with lots of loud exclamations and much banging about, all while delivering one of his infamous well-meaning lectures. Their chances of escaping without any sort of anger from Hercules were slim to non-existent – and if Pythagoras were being completely honest with himself he would have to admit that it would be well deserved. He had known from the start that Jason was not thinking clearly – was letting his heart and emotions rule – and had completely failed to act as the voice of reason that his friend had needed. Instead he had jumped at the chance to escape the boredom of the house; did not want to be left behind to wait alone.

Now though he really did need to start looking for Hercules no matter what sort of reception he was likely to get from the big man. At least in Pythagoras' current condition the burly wrestler was unlikely to hang him from the window by his feet. Wherever he was Jason was likely to be getting in over his head; to need them to come to his aid or at least to support him. When all was said and done he was in all likelihood going to need the support of both of them once any fighting was over and the reality of the situation hit him. Pythagoras was worried about what consequences the emotional fallout from tonight's activities would have for Jason. The very nature of what had happened would be bound to affect the young man in some way and the other two would need to be there for him. Decision made to search for Hercules the young genius started back the way he had come, peering worriedly into the shadows as the darkness seemed to close in around him. He really should have brought a sword, he berated himself. After all the months of living with Jason he knew well enough that trouble could fall on them at any time. Yet in the heat of the moment and the rush to leave the house he had forgotten it once again. They were never supposed to be doing any fighting though; were only supposed to be finding out where Cassie had been taken. Although Pythagoras had to admit that he hadn't even thought about what might happen if they did manage to discover her whereabouts – or at least some clue as to where she was being held. It had been stupid of him really – he knew Jason's impulsive nature all too well; knew that his friend would never fail to try to help another person; knew that he had almost no sense of self-preservation and a piteously low sense of his own self-worth.

He sighed again and picked up his pace. As he re-entered the agora the sound of multiple marching feet made him duck back into the alleyway. Hercules _might_ be back already – although Pythagoras couldn't help thinking that it was probably far too soon to hope for that – but he certainly wouldn't march in step. He peered out of the darkness fearfully. The tramping feet came ever closer. Pythagoras gulped. He had a horrible suspicion that it was a patrol and he really had no inclination to be caught out on the streets after curfew – could not afford to be arrested at this point. He simply had to find Hercules.

The patrol came into view, led by a tall, grim faced soldier. Pythagoras gasped. With them were Hercules and Talos. The young mathematician drew back further into the shadows. What was he supposed to do now? If Hercules had been arrested then it would be down to him, unarmed and unaided, to help Jason. He looked back at the patrol again, trying to work out if there was some way he could free Hercules from their clutches; some story that he could come up with that would obtain the immediate release of his friend. Then he noticed something odd. Neither Hercules nor Talos seemed to be restrained in any way. Far from being dragged along they were walking alongside the patrol freely, the burly wrestler deep in conversation with the patrol leader. It didn't make sense. Experience told Pythagoras that the city guard were to be avoided at all costs; that they would only ever be a hindrance rather than a help; that they were made up exclusively of bullies and thugs who delighted in the power that they held over the general citizenry. But that didn't seem to be the case here. The patrol leader was listening to Hercules intently, his face serious but not unfriendly.

Pythagoras bit his lip. Should he follow at a distance? Try to find out what was going on in the hope that it would help Cassie? March straight up to them and come up with a convenient lie to extricate Hercules from the group so that he could apprise him of the Jason situation? Tell the truth? Indecision caught at the mathematician and he wavered, unsure of his next move. Then the decision was effectively removed from his hands altogether. As the troop came level with the alley one of their number peeled off the back, clearly looking for somewhere to relieve himself, and trotted straight into the alley where Pythagoras was hiding. There was no time to flee back into the darkness before the guard was upon him. With hindsight Pythagoras didn't know which of them was more surprised; himself, caught unawares as he tried to decide what to do or the guard, already fumbling with the laces on his trousers and clearly not expecting to look up and see a random mathematician hiding in the darkness.

In a trice the guard had caught hold of his shoulder, squeezing it firmly and eliciting a startled squeak and a pained grimace from Pythagoras. He shoved the young man out into the agora and frogmarched him across to re-join his troop, just about to disappear up the Sacred Way, gripping his arm none too gently.

"Sir," the guard yelled as they came up to the back of the patrol, now well on down the Sacred Way, "I caught this one lurking in an alleyway back there."

The patrol leader signalled a halt and pushed his way through his men to bring himself face to face with the startled young man.

"What are you doing?" he demanded sharply. "Every citizen of Atlantis knows that there is a curfew tonight. We are under attack. Can you not hear the horns?"

"He was on the edge of the industrial area, Sir," the guard holding Pythagoras' arm said. "I think he was planning on looting one of the warehouses."

"With no equipment to help him break in and nothing to carry any goods away in?" the leader said dryly. "I don't think he'd get very far like that."

"Well maybe he was a lookout then," the first guard answered doggedly, giving Pythagoras a little shake.

"I was not planning on looting anything," Pythagoras answered, finally finding his voice.

"So what were you doing then?" the leader asked with a raised eyebrow. "Give me one good reason why I should not have you carted off to the cells on the spot."

"Well… that is… erm…" Pythagoras stammered, trying to come up with a coherent explanation on the spur of the moment. He was usually better at coming up with excuses than this, he chided himself; had become fairly adept at thinking on his feet. But right now he was cold and tired and more than a little rattled at the way his evening was going.

At the other end of the patrol, Hercules bit back a groan. The troop leader was clearly sympathetic with his cause and willing to help as long as he got permission from the King and they had been heading to the Palace at a reasonable speed. Any delay now could be disastrous for little Castianiera and the burly wrestler found himself cursing whatever imbecile had been caught out on the streets after curfew and was now holding them up. Then he stiffened. He knew that voice. Stifling a curse, he forced his way through the troop, eliciting several hard looks from the guards – looks that carried the promise of retribution if their officer were not there to prevent it – and came to stand beside the grim faced soldier.

"Pythagoras?" he said incredulously. "What in the name of the Gods are you doing here?"

Pythagoras gulped at the expression on his older friend's face. Hercules appeared to be fuming.

"You know him?" the squad leader asked, turning towards Hercules.

"He's my friend," Hercules admitted, "We share a house. He's been ill though… had the fever… and he's _supposed_ to be at home right now not out in the streets on a night as cold as this." He looked hard at Pythagoras.

"Well you see… erm… Jason…" He didn't need to go any further.

Hercules' face hardened even more.

"Where is he?" he demanded forcefully.

"We sort of got separated," Pythagoras admitted. "I think he has gone after the slavers alone."

Hercules began to swear sulphurously.

"How could he be so stupid?" he flared. "How is anyone supposed to protect someone so hell bent on his own destruction?"

"Hercules, please…" Pythagoras said reasonably. "Jason is not suicidal and you know it. He could not sit idly by while Cassie is in danger. You must have known that."

"I'd hoped his common sense would have told him that he was not fit enough to be running around," Hercules growled.

Pythagoras looked at him incredulously.

"Common sense?" he asked. "_Jason_? He stole sacrificial meat from Hekate's shrine and went off to face Circe alone… I am not sure that common sense is necessarily one of his strong points… Besides, with his history he was never going to be able to look at the situation rationally."

Hercules sighed.

"You're right," he admitted. "I should have let him come with me in the first place… at least then I could have kept an eye on him."

A pointed clearing of the throat made them both turn to face the patrol leader.

"We must be off," he said. "If we are to have any hope of discovering what has happened to your friend's daughter then I must make a report to the King and obtain permission to leave my duties."

Pythagoras looked surprised.

"You will help us?" he asked.

"If my King permits it," the soldier answered.

"Come on," Hercules said testily, grabbing Pythagoras' arm and beginning to drag him along, "we need to get going."

"But I think I know where Cassie is," Pythagoras protested.

Both Hercules and the patrol leader stopped dead and turned to face the mathematician.

"What?" Hercules demanded. "Where is she then?"

"Well, when I say I know where she is… I mean I know which direction she was taken in and…"

"Pythagoras," Hercules growled. "Talk, don't babble."

"Jason and I were searching one of the alleys leading from the agora… the one we had seen you and Talos come from… and he said something about Cassie screaming and I realised that she could not have been taken back through the agora; could not have been taken anywhere near houses because someone might have seen. So they must have taken her into the industrial district where there would be no people… and it could not be too far away because they could not risk running into a patrol. We went further down the alley and I found a scrap of the blanket that they had used to wrap Cassie in snagged on a nail on the wall. It was a fresh tear – there had been no time for the edges to become dirty. We walked on into the next street – I swear we were only going to see if there were any more clues as to where they had taken her and then come to find you. Even Jason acknowledged that with his knee so badly injured he should not be attempting to fight. There was a noise behind us and Jason pulled me into a doorway. Two men came past and they were laughing and joking about a golden haired child they had just taken and were talking about how much she would sell for. They mentioned the brothels of Athens and what a price she would fetch in them and then they said that it was a shame that they had been unable to capture any boys…" Pythagoras trailed off.

Hercules gritted his teeth. He looked up to see the grim faced soldier watching them – his face grimmer than ever.

"Go on," he said impatiently.

"Jason… he did not react well," the young genius admitted. "If I had not been there I think he would have attacked them on the spot. As it was he jumped out and raced off after them. I tried to keep up but I got out of breath and had to stop for a moment. By the time I rounded the corner Jason had gone…"

"He can barely walk on that leg," Hercules protested.

"I know," Pythagoras answered. "But you would not have thought so if you had seen him tonight. There was pain in his eyes but he was not letting it show in any other way… and now he is out there looking for a band of slavers; alone, with an injury that is far from properly healed and without even his cloak to keep him warm. We do not know how many are in this band of slavers… Hercules we have to find him!"

Hercules closed his eyes for a moment. He desperately wanted to head off in search of his wayward young friend at the moment but his chances of doing that seemed almost non-existent. The leader of the patrol was polite and sensible enough but he did not seem the sort to disobey his orders, which meant that until they had got approval from the King he would not even consider a search for Cassie.

"Show me where you lost your friend," the deep voice of the patrol leader demanded.

"I thought we were going to get the approval of the King," Hercules said, surprised beyond belief that this man who he had taken to be a stickler for orders would go against them now.

"The situation has changed and I must use my judgement," the soldier said. "You say your friend is injured but has followed the slavers anyway," he turned back to Pythagoras.

"Yes," the mathematician admitted. "Jason badly injured his knee a week ago. But he promised Talos that we would find Cassie and I have never known him to go back on his word."

The soldier squinted back down the Sacred Way towards the agora and then turned to look appraisingly at both Pythagoras and Talos. Without a word he moved back towards the patrol and grabbed a bow and quiver from the shoulder of one of his men and a long knife from the belt of another. The bow he presented to the startled mathematician and the knife to the merchant.

"I will not have anyone unable to defend himself," he stated firmly. "Now show me where you lost your friend."

* * *

><p>The streets leading from the agora into the heart of the industrial areas of Atlantis felt much safer and much less empty now that Pythagoras had people with him – even if those people <em>were<em> city guards. It went against the grain somehow to be trusting a group of guards when he had spent much of the last year either evading or on the odd occasion fighting them. There was something solid and reassuring about the leader of this particular group of guards, however, and Pythagoras found himself almost automatically trusting and liking the man. There was a quiet competence about him; an air of command – and yet he clearly believed in fair play and was intelligent and perceptive. The young mathematician decided to test the waters further. He moved forwards in the group until he was walking beside the man.

"Why are you helping us?" he asked.

The soldier turned to look at him with what could only be described as a half-smile.

"I have been a soldier of Atlantis all my adult life," he said softly. "I love this city. I have been away for many years protecting the borders and have only recently returned. The thought that anyone would do this in _my_ city… that there are people in this city who would take advantage of children in that way… I cannot accept it. It cannot be allowed to continue. I know without doubt that if this matter was brought to the King's attention he would order me to find the culprits. His Majesty may be many things but he is a good father and does try to be a good king."

"You speak as one who knows him," Pythagoras murmured, peering about himself as he walked hoping to see some sign that Jason had passed that way.

"I have an acquaintance with the King," the soldier admitted. "It has been my honour to serve him."

"I met a man before who said much the same," Pythagoras said lightly. "He was the Captain of the Guard and one of the most loyal and honest men I ever met."

"Ramos," the patrol leader murmured. "We knew each other for many years. He was a friend. I was saddened to learn of his death."

"I'm Pythagoras by the way."

"Dion," the soldier answered. He looked quizzically at the young genius. "Do you always talk this much?"

"Only when he's nervous," Hercules grumbled from further back.

They came to a junction. The street that joined to the one they were on ran in both directions.

"Which way?" Hercules mused.

Pythagoras looked both ways carefully.

"Left," he said after a moment.

"How can you possibly know that?" Hercules grumbled. "You're just guessing."

"To the right the ground is undisturbed. There are crates stacked in neat piles. Nothing is out of place," Pythagoras said patiently. "To the left there are also crates but you will notice that more than one stack has been knocked over as though someone ran through at speed and knocked into them – perhaps because he was not as steady as he would like. The ground has been disturbed… and then there is this…" he moved down the street and picked up a small item, coming back to the others and holding it up triumphantly. "It is one of the metal decorations from Jason's belt. I noticed it was loose the other day. I must reattach it properly for him." He frowned slightly at the last thought.

"Pray that you get the chance," Dion remarked. He looked at his men. "This way," he commanded.

The group marched on. Turning another corner they came into a long street with doors lining either side. Warehouses Pythagoras surmised. He was growing very tired now, much as he hated to admit it, and his chest felt tight, a cough threatening to bubble up from his lungs and take his breath away. Periodically he felt Hercules' eyes on him but could not bring himself to meet his old friend's gaze. Somehow he had the suspicion that once this night was over and Cassie was safe, the burly wrestler would be insisting that he spent at least the next day and possibly two in bed and that he would be confined to the house for the foreseeable future. He had a sneaking suspicion that the same fate would await Jason when they finally found him – and that the two of them were probably in for a serious scolding. He wasn't sure that he would do anything different if he had the chance again though – and was absolutely certain that Jason wouldn't.

But where was Jason? So far there had been little sign of him and they could hardly wander through the streets of Atlantis all night. Pythagoras worried at his lip anxiously. What if Jason had already been caught by the slavers? Or worse. He could be lying somewhere injured and they would not know about it.

As they walked down the street, the inevitable happened and Pythagoras, lost in his own increasingly worried and dark thoughts, tripped over his own feet. With reflexes more reminiscent of Jason than himself Hercules reached out and caught the young man before he could fall. Before he could make a sarcastic comment about Pythagoras' clumsiness, however, he realised that the lad was staring at something over his big friend's shoulder, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

"What is it?" Hercules demanded.

"I think I've just found Jason," Pythagoras gasped a little breathlessly.

"How?" Hercules growled. "I don't see him."

"Look at the door, Hercules," the young man murmured, righting himself and standing up straight.

Hercules looked at it blankly.

"It's a door," he said.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered patiently, "but looked at what is scratched onto it… it is a triangle."

Hercules peered at it.

"So?"

"Jason knows I will follow him. I believe he has left it as a sign for me."

"Pythagoras those scratches could have come from anywhere. They could have been made months ago," Hercules objected.

"I do not believe so. The scratches are fresh… they have not had time to become dirty yet. Besides, look at what is inside the triangle…" Pythagoras stated.

"It's a blob," Hercules answered.

"It is a pie Hercules."

Hercules peered at the door again.

"Maybe," he agreed grudgingly. "It's a bit wonky though."

"I do not think that Jason would have had time to worry about the artistic merits," Pythagoras retorted crisply. "Nevertheless I believe that he has left it for us to indicate that he is inside."

"You are sure of this?" Dion asked.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered confidently.

"Very well," the big soldier said. "It is worth checking if nothing else."

He reached for the door latch and pushed it open. The door gave beneath his hand with no sign of having been locked. Pythagoras was more convinced than ever that they were in the right place. After all who left a warehouse unlocked when there were thieves and other undesirables around?

The patrol stepped through the door into the darkened space beyond. As they waited to allow their eyes to adjust to the lower level of light a figure stepped out of the shadows. Dion's sword was instantly in his hand.

"Who's there?" he demanded. "Show yourself in the name of the King."

The figure moved closer. It was still cast in deep shadows but the faint light coming from the still open doorway glinted off the weapon that it held.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Thank you so much for the lovely reviews. You've all inspired me so much that I've managed to get the chapter out a day early! I just hope it doesn't disappoint.

Please don't forget to review - if you feel like reviewing that is ;-)

* * *

><p>Pythagoras gulped as the figure stepped forwards and gripped the shaft of his bow a little more tightly. Perhaps he should think about drawing an arrow? All around him the guards began to unsheathe their swords and he could feel Hercules behind him preparing for action. Without a word the big man stepped around his young friend, his sword in his hand, preparing to defend Pythagoras. In all honesty the young genius appreciated the sentiment but couldn't help feeling that as he had the only ranged weapon in the group perhaps Hercules ought not to get in the way of what was essentially their first line of defence. That thought made him pause. Since when had he been anyone's first line of defence? He was a mathematician and a sometime philosopher and healer not a warrior. His life really had changed in so many ways since Jason had come crashing so unexpectedly in through the window – was much more dangerous and yet much more exciting. At least he could say he had lived now; at least he had personal experiences to draw on and his knowledge of healing and of wound care in emergency situations had increased exponentially.<p>

He shook himself, reminding himself to keep his mind on the task at hand and not let it wander. The figure in the shadows stepped even closer. As it did a shaft of moonlight from the still open doorway glanced off brown curls and bright, alert dark eyes.

"Jason," Pythagoras breathed in relief.

Jason drew close, motioning them all to keep quiet and looked over his shoulder at the stairs beyond. Then he grinned at Pythagoras, an unexpected flicker of happiness in the grim situation they once again found themselves in. Pythagoras couldn't restrain his own brief smile of relief. Then Jason's smile dropped. He looked at Dion through narrowed and wary eyes. Pythagoras couldn't really blame him – his interactions with the city guards had not until now been entirely friendly.

"They are here to help," the young genius said softly.

Jason nodded.

"Fair enough," he murmured. "We need to move quietly. The kidnappers are in a room downstairs and there are a lot of them. I counted at least ten but I could only see a fraction of the room from where I was hidden and there were definitely more voices from men that I couldn't see. Once we get down the stairs there's a corridor. The room is about halfway along but there's a torch on the wall right outside. Beyond that the corridor splits in two. The children are in a room down the left fork. The corridor carries on beyond but I didn't stop to see where it went. There are between fifteen and twenty children in the room – all girls. The youngest can only be two or three and the oldest about thirteen… and yes Cassie is with them," he added looking at Talos. "They're all very scared and the youngest ones are going to need to be carried… so getting out of here in a hurry might be a bit difficult."

"Can we take the men in the room by surprise?" Dion asked.

"Possibly," Jason answered. "If we can be quiet enough coming down the corridor. They seem to be having a party in there so they're making a fair bit of noise. We'll need to keep to the shadows as much as possible but unless one of them needs to come out to relieve himself we should be able to get right up near the door before they know we're here."

"What do you mean we?" Hercules growled. "You're going to stay up here with him where it's relatively safe," he added, nodding at Pythagoras.

"Not a chance," Jason hissed firmly. "I gave my word that I would go back for the girls and I am not going to break it."

Before Hercules could say another word or make a move to grab him Jason slipped away towards the top of the stairs, beckoning the rest of them to follow him. Hercules swore softly and headed after him. Pythagoras winced. Jason was not helping to improve the burly wrestler's temper in any way – although Hercules really should have known better than to think that Jason would simply do as he was told and sit this one out; it wasn't in his nature. The mathematician didn't much fancy being left up here while everyone else went down to take on the slavers either – especially not on his own. Something might go wrong and he would never know. No, the three of them were a team and would go into this together no matter what Hercules thought. He tagged onto the back of the group as they made their way over to the archway.

At the top of the stairs Jason hesitated. Much as he was unwilling to admit it the walk up them had been pure torture and he had the feeling that the journey back down would be even worse. He'd promised Amathea and the other girls that he would be back to rescue them though and he wasn't about to let them down. It would be better if his leg wasn't hurting quite so badly he decided. What had started as a vague throbbing and a slight stiffness in his knee joint had morphed into constant screaming pain that had grown worse as he climbed the stairs. It had been all he could do to stop himself from limping as he walked across the floor to join the others and he really wasn't looking forward to the trip back down the stairs. He swallowed hard and moved forwards again, hoping that no-one had noticed the pause or worked out the reason behind it (although he wouldn't put it past Pythagoras to have worked out the truth – his friend was simply too observant).

By the time he reached the bottom Jason wanted to scream. He stopped, bracing himself against the wall with one hand, and gulped down some breaths of air – his breathing coming more heavily than he would have liked. He felt a strong hand touching his arm and looked up to see Dion unclasp a flask and shove it under his nose. The water inside was lukewarm and stale but it seemed to help him to regain some balance and allowed him to pause while the ball of fire that formed his knee settled back to the constant ache he had become used to. He handed the water bottle back to the large soldier and mouthed his thanks.

Before anyone could suggest that perhaps he ought to wait where he was Jason set off again, keeping to the shadows along the wall in much the same way that he had done before. As the group approached the doorway he paused, holding a hand up to bid the guards to be still, and crept closer, ducking down behind the barrel once again. He was quickly joined by both Dion and Hercules – although there really wasn't enough room for them all. He peered around the barrel and into the room. The men in the room were full of raucous cheer and appeared to be well into their cups. Jason half smiled. That would work to the advantage of the rescue party. Drunken men were rarely able to co-ordinate their movements enough to work together as a team. If they were hit hard enough and fast enough it would be every man for himself. The only thing that needed to be guarded against was that some of them might try to make a break for the girls – to effectively use them as bargaining chips or human shields. That wasn't going to happen, he thought grimly.

Pulling back around the barrel he found himself face to face with a worried and angry looking Hercules. Jason bit his lip. He really didn't have time for the big man to launch into a lecture right now. Fortunately it appeared that Hercules well understood the gravity of the situation and was not about to start scolding. As Dion took his turn at assessing their position, the burly wrestler caught hold of his younger friend's shoulders and peered into his face.

"We'll talk about this insanity later," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble. "Don't take unnecessary risks though, alright? I know you're going to do this no matter what I say but try not to let yourself get hurt this time."

Jason nodded tightly, glad that Hercules had put off the inevitable lecture until the children were safe. Hercules' eyes tightened as he pushed up his Jason's sleeves and took in the scrapes and fresh marks that would darken into bruises over the next couple of days that decorated his young friend's arms. Where Jason had picked them up from the Gods only knew but Hercules intended to find out. All he really wanted right now was to finish what they had come here to do and then get home where Pythagoras could be put to bed to rest and Jason could be checked over for additional injuries and then bundled off to join his friend. The big man hadn't failed to notice how long it had taken Jason to get down the stairs or that he had had to stop at the bottom for a time, and realised that the young man had been overexerting himself to the point where his knee would be extremely painful. Hopefully that would settle with rest once he had his feet up and equally hopefully he had not made the injury any worse.

Hercules also couldn't fail to notice just how cold the lad felt beneath his hands – the faint trembling as he shivered slightly. This really was not the weather to be running around the streets without a cloak. No doubt Jason had forgotten it and while he had been running it had not been a problem. Now, however, he had clearly been waiting in the darkness for his friends to arrive for some time; keeping watch over the slavers. That meant he had been standing still in the darkness and after his earlier exertion it had left him chilled through – although he himself was still so caught up in the situation that he had yet to notice just how cold he had become. Yes, getting him home and bundled up into a nice warm bed with a good fire going to prevent him from catching a chill was a very good idea to Hercules' mind. There was no point voicing it to Jason at the moment though. The look of grim determination on the young man's face told Hercules that it would not be well received and probably sharply rebuffed.

Dion ducked back around the barrel and motioned to them both to come with him to re-join his men. Quietly they pulled back towards the bottom of the stairs where the patrol leader could outline what he intended to do.

"We are going to hit them hard and fast," he murmured urgently. "They are so far into their cups that with luck we should have most of them subdued before they know what has hit them. We'll split into two and take half the room each. That way we should manage without falling over one another. Now we don't know exactly how many we'll be facing and it may be that there are more of them than there are of us, but we have the advantage of training and surprise. I want as many of them alive as we can to bring before the King but if that's not possible then I'm not going to lose a great deal of sleep over it. Whatever you have to do to capture them do it. I don't want anyone taking unnecessary risks." He turned towards Jason. "If it looks like any of them might get past us then it's your job to get those girls to safety," he said. "You and your friends' first priority is those children. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Jason answered tightly.

"Good," Dion said. "Now before we go on your friends have told me that you are injured. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," Jason answered. "I'm fine."

He was very aware of the incredulous looks he was getting from both Hercules and Pythagoras at that moment. Clearly neither one of them believed that he was really as fine as he was claiming to be and each resolved to keep as close an eye as possible on him until they were all safely back home. Jason sighed under his breath. It was nice to have friends who cared so much about his wellbeing, particularly given the fact that so few people had ever actually cared, but he did think that they made far too much fuss at times.

Dion looked at him sceptically with his eyebrows raised. Jason looked back steadily.

"Are you sure?" the big soldier asked. "If it is likely to be a problem I need to know now. I do not mean to sound harsh but I do not need to be worrying about you in the middle of a battle."

"Indeed," Jason answered. "You do not need to worry about me. I am more than capable of finishing this and I can look after myself."

"Alright," Dion growled. "Then we go now."

The suddenness of the attack took the slavers completely by surprise, much as Dion had intended. There were indeed far more of them than either he or Jason had been able to see from outside the doorway – between twenty and twenty-five at best guess – and the city guards and their allies were outnumbered by more than two to one. No-one really had time to count the number of opponents, however. By the time they had rushed into the room and fallen upon the kidnappers they were all too intent on the job to stop and count heads. Many of the slavers were fortunately too drunk to stand, but those that were left quickly rallied and began to form a defence. Their sheer advantage of numbers began to slow down the attack.

Separated from the main group of guards, Jason found himself fighting back to back with Hercules, surrounded and outnumbered by a pocket of the criminals. The feeling of déjà-vu assaulted him again and almost took his breath away even as he parried another stroke from the hard faced kidnapper he was facing. Then the fighting grew too intense and all thought was driven from his mind and he fought on, relying on instinct and practice to know what the next move his opponent made would be. He was tiring rapidly though and could feel it – and his recent injuries meant that his movements were far less fluid than usual. Still they were nearly through the group and on the verge of joining up with Pythagoras, Talos and Dion.

Then the inevitable happened. One of the slavers, reeling from a blow, kicked out brutally as he fell and caught the side of Jason's knee. It had been a desperate move on the part of the slaver, an act borne of panic rather than thought, and he had no way of anticipating just how successful it would be; no way of knowing that he was actually targeting his young opponent's biggest weakness at the moment. Jason cried out sharply as white hot agony exploded in his leg and he fell as his knee gave way. Still moving on instinct he rolled to one side and narrowly avoided a downward stroke from the man above him. Now though he was trapped, caught in a tangle of felled bodies. It seemed that the next blow would inevitably hit him.

Hercules roared in anger. He had seen Jason go down and was trying to reach him but a couple of the slavers stepped in between them, preventing him from getting to his friend. With a horrified, sinking feeling he realised that there was no way he could get there in time but still redoubled his efforts. He could not let one of his boys down like this; he could not stand by and see one of them hurt or killed in this skirmish.

On the floor, Jason looked up to see another downward sword cut heading his way. The pain in his knee had begun to subside again but there was still no way he could get out of the way in time – there was simply no room to manoeuvre. Then the slaver's sword was deflected as it hit another outstretched sword, thrust out just in time. Who knew where Pythagoras had found the sword from or how he had managed to get there in time, but he had – although he looked more startled at the fact than his opponent did. With a shout Dion dived in from the one side and took on the man whose sword Pythagoras had managed to parry while Hercules attacked from the other, still roaring and swinging his own sword like a meat cleaver. Pythagoras turned breathlessly and offered his hand to Jason, pulling his friend to his feet. Jason held onto his arm for a minute even after he had stood up, biting down on the flare of pain he felt and struggling to regain his balance. Once he was sure he could stand on his own he let Pythagoras' arm drop and reached down for his sword.

Opponents defeated for the time being, Dion turned to the two young men. He looked hard at Jason.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Just winded," replied Jason. He spun and fended off another attacker, blocking and thrusting neatly. "He took me by surprise... I'll be alright."

Dion easily fended off his own man, clobbering him on the back of the head with the butt of his sword and watching clinically as he fell to the floor insensible.

"For someone who I am told has a badly injured knee you fight very well," he said. "I would like to see you fight someday when you are not hampered by injury."

Jason looked at him quizzically.

"Thanks… I think," he responded.

Dion half smiled. He turned and swept the room with a glance, assessing the situation.

"There are more of them than I had hoped. We must fall back to the corridor where the confined space will work to our advantage. You must get to the children. You must get them out of here. We will regroup in the street once this is all over."

Jason nodded and started for the door, pushing Pythagoras and Talos ahead of him. In the doorway Dion turned.

"On me!" he roared.

It appeared that this particular group of city guards were both better trained and more disciplined than was their norm, Jason was pleased to note. To a man they came to join their leader, reforming in the corridor to take on another attack from the rapidly dwindling group of slavers.

"Hercules," Jason called urgently, beckoning for his older friend to join himself, Pythagoras and Talos behind the guards. "We have to get the girls to safety," he explained when the big man had joined them.

Hercules nodded and the four of them set off down the corridor in the opposite direction to the stairs. It was getting harder for Jason to hide the fact that his leg was hurting badly but he gritted his teeth and moved on as fluidly as he could. Without hesitation he led his friends and Cassie's worried father down the left hand fork in the corridor to the room where he had found the girls before. At the door he paused for a minute and then knocked gently, reasoning that Amathea at least would realise that their kidnappers would not knock – at least in part because they would still believe that the girls were caged.

The door opened a crack and a pair of large eyes peered out at him. Then it swung open fully and Jason slipped into the room. The children were huddled at the back of the room, the older ones trying to comfort the younger. The cages still stood at the sides, their doors now hanging open. Jason could feel the horror coming off his friends in waves. Having been here earlier and seen the worst of the situation he was a little more prepared this time. His friends were not. Pythagoras in particular seemed appalled by what he was seeing, his blue eyes bright and watery.

Amathea came forwards and smiled softly at Jason, offering him his hunting knife back.

"You came back," she said.

"I promised you I would," Jason answered, tucking the knife back into his belt.

"Are these your friends?"

"Yes," Jason responded. "The older one is Hercules and the skinny one is Pythagoras… and the other one is Cassie's father, Talos."

Cassie herself had by this time spotted her father and had launched herself across the room and into his arms, where he was holding her as though his life depended on it – pulling back occasionally to check that she really was unharmed and alright.

"There are city guards outside fighting with the men who took you," Jason went on. "We need to get you all out of here now and then we'll see about getting you all back to your parents, alright?"

"Yes," answered Amathea, smiling.

"I'll need your help to move them all though."

The young girl nodded and drew herself up to her full height, straightening the filthy dress that hung from her thin frame as best she could and setting her face with a determined expression.

"Let's go then," she said.

They slipped back out into the corridor, the youngest girls being carried by the four men and the older children gripping the younger ones hands. From the direction of the stairs the noise of battle was drawing inexorably closer and the four adults of the group shared a concerned look.

"We can't go back that way," Hercules said.

Jason nodded and started off down the corridor, a trusting little soul of no more than three held in his arms, playing with his necklace.

"You don't know what's down there," Pythagoras protested. "You don't even know if there is a way out that way. We could end up being caught in a dead end; trapped."

"It can't be worse than trying to take these little girls through the middle of a battle," Hercules argued.

Jason tuned them out. Something was pulling him onwards. A feeling of rightness that he could in no way explain. Although there were no torches or lanterns down here he could almost see a golden glow ahead of him, sparkling and drawing him on. Up ahead the corridor split into two again. Without hesitation Jason took the right hand option, picking up speed as he went. A hand caught hold of his sleeve and forced him to halt. He turned to see Pythagoras staring at him in exasperation.

"We cannot simply run on without knowing where we are going," the mathematician stated.

"We are going the right way," Jason insisted.

"You cannot know that. You said yourself that you had not had time to explore the corridor beyond the room where the girls were held. We must tread cautiously. We should examine both options before we decide on a course."

"This _is_ the right path," Jason answered, his eyes distant. He turned and looked down the left hand fork with a shudder. There was a feeling of wrongness about it; a darkness that he had no wish to explore.

"How can you possibly know that?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason hesitated. He didn't know _how_ he knew and therefore had no way of explaining himself. It sounded crazy even to his own ears and he could only imagine what his friends would make of the fact that he was choosing a direction by what felt right. They would probably think that he had cracked again, he decided, and he would hardly be able to blame them. Perhaps he had; perhaps he'd flipped over the edge. All he really knew was that he was being pulled forwards by something – and that something was coming from within himself. To be honest it was all a bit terrifying. Seeing Cassie in that cage – fighting back to back with Hercules as they were surrounded – he had seen it before; had seen it almost exactly as it had happened in his dreams last night. The more he thought about it the more his breath caught in the back of his throat and he really couldn't afford the time to think about this now. He could have a meltdown later once the girls were safe.

"Do you trust me?" he asked Pythagoras.

"Of course," the blonde mathematician responded.

"Then trust me now… please," Jason almost begged. "I can't explain how I know that this is the right way… I just do."

"We don't have time for this," Hercules griped from his position at the back of the group. "Whichever way we're going we need to go now."

Pythagoras looked earnestly at Jason and nodded. Jason smiled gratefully and plunged off down the corridor again. At the end of the passageway a metal gateway barred their way. Through the bars they could see the street. They were nearly free but although the bars were fairly widely spaced it seemed unlikely that they would all fit through.

"Are we all going to fit through there?" Pythagoras asked, eyeing Hercules' bulk apprehensively.

The burly wrestler sighed dramatically and set the small child he was carrying down on her own feet for a few minutes.

"Out of my way," he declared. Grabbing hold of two of the bars he heaved against them, using his immense strength to bend them out of shape and forming a hole they could all fit through.

"Wide enough for you?" he asked Pythagoras sarcastically.

"It was never too narrow for me," the young genius answered primly as he stepped through.

Once they were all through the gap they moved away a little from the gateway and stopped. Pythagoras looked around nervously, half expecting the slavers to pop out of the darkness and attack them.

"Where do we go now?" he asked.

"To the Temple," a deep voice murmured behind them.

Startled they turned to see Dion stepping through the gap in the gateway.

"The slavers have been subdued," he stated. "Those that are still alive are confined. I have left most of my men to guard them and dispatched another to fetch reinforcements. They will face judgement before the King. Justice will be done."

Jason had a feeling that he knew exactly what that 'justice' would entail. He almost felt sorry for the slavers, no matter what they had done. He tried to suppress a shudder, knowing that there was simply no point voicing an opinion on the fairness or lack of it in the Atlantian justice system – no-one here seemed to understand his feelings. Even Pythagoras thought that the system was reasonable and the sentences just. He looked up to see Dion watching him shrewdly.

"You do not approve," the big soldier said flatly.

"Jason has difficulty accepting capital punishment," Pythagoras interjected. "Apparently they do not use it where he comes from."

"It doesn't really matter," Jason said hurriedly. "There's nothing I can do to change things anyway… Besides we need to be concentrating on what we do next."

"As I said, we will go to the Temple," Dion answered firmly.

"And why would we want to go there?" Hercules asked suspiciously. No matter how helpful the patrol leader had been he _was_ still a member of the city guards and therefore someone to be wary of.

"Many of the refugees are housed in the Temple. If you wish to find the families of the children then your best chance will be to search for them there. Prymneus and I will escort you there and then I must report this matter to the King at the Palace. You will spend the night at the Temple and return to your home in the morning."

Hercules glared at him.

"Absolutely not!" he flared. "We'll be going home tonight. He's been ill and he's still injured," he stated pointing to his two younger friends, "and they could both do with a good night's sleep in their own beds. If you think I'm going to let you keep them from them then you've got another thing coming."

"You have no choice," Dion said, his tone hardening. "The city is still under curfew and I cannot allow you to be wandering the streets without an escort. We are still under attack at the moment and unless you are part of the defence on the walls you do not have permission to be out of doors. I cannot spare the time or the men to escort you to your own home tonight and if you should try to leave unescorted I will reluctantly be forced to arrest you."

"Arrest us?" Hercules yelled. "After what we've done tonight? There's gratitude for you!"

"Hercules," Jason interjected sharply. "It's fine. Let's get the girls to safety and hopefully back with their families and we can sort out the rest afterwards."

Hercules looked at his friend with a frown. He couldn't help but notice how tired Jason looked right now – how tired both the boys looked actually. Jason hadn't slept well last night, he reminded himself, and combined with this evening's activity it was clearly catching up with him. The burly wrestler sighed. He had hoped that there would be a way of resolving all this quickly so that he could get his friends back home where they belonged. He would even have been willing to forgo the discussion that he wanted to have with both his friends over their behaviour tonight in favour of letting them both get some decent rest and tackling them in the morning.

"Fine," he muttered. "But don't think that this is the end of it," he added, pointing a meaty finger at Dion.

To do him credit the soldier did not say a word. He simply returned Hercules' gaze steadily with an eyebrow raised. The truth of the matter was that he had no real wish to arrest anyone and understood that Hercules was acting out of worry for his friends, and he did appreciate that both of the younger men ought to be resting – they both looked almost ready to drop – but he had his duty and it was simply not safe to allow them to go wandering through the streets tonight. His was not the only patrol in the streets and he somehow doubted that many of his comrades would think twice about arresting any of this little band – or of sending them to fight on the city walls. Besides which there were looters around – desperate men who survived by stealing from others – and with the city walls under attack there was always the threat that that posed, with arrows raining down from above . At least the Amphigeneians had not yet managed to finish building any catapults and he silently thanked the Gods for that fact, knowing that the situation on the city could be so much worse right now. His companions would be far safer within the walls of the Temple tonight whether they realised it or not and at least it was warm there. Yes it might be true that they would be more comfortable in their own home but right now he was more interested in their safety than their comfort.

With a grunt Hercules adjusted the wide-eyed child on his hip and started to move in the direction of the Temple. Talos was still too caught up in the joy of having got Cassie back to be aware of the situation around him or the tensions within the group but the other two young men exchanged a long look. With Hercules in this sort of mood their chances of getting away without one of his well-meaning lectures seemed slim. Dion gestured to the guard that had come with him to follow the burly wrestler and then indicated to the others– both adults and children – to follow on behind, taking up his own position at the rear of the group. As one of the little girls began to drop back, her small legs rapidly becoming tired, he scooped her up without breaking stride and simply carried her on one arm. Ahead of him the other soldier, Prymneus, selected his own little girl to carry – picking the one who seemed smallest and most tired from the group.

Pythagoras watched them quizzically. It still seemed alien to him to see members of the city guard being helpful. He supposed that there _were_ reasonable men who joined up; were family men who were simply trying to do their best to protect their families and work for their city; it was just that he and his friends had always in the past seemed to encounter the petty minded bullies that seemed to be attracted to the job. Dion seemed more than reasonable, however. Everything he was insisting upon _was_ fair even if Hercules didn't particularly like it, and he _had_ trusted them – trusted that they were telling the truth – and had done everything in his power to help them based on that trust.

Then he turned to look at his friends. Hercules was clearly seething. Pythagoras winced. He had known that his older friend would be distinctly unhappy that both himself and Jason had chosen to leave the house this evening in spite of Hercules' feelings on the matter; had known that the big man would say that they had both endangered their health and would be cross as a result. In a way he did agree that Hercules had a point. Neither one of them was operating at full strength and the burly wrestler really hadn't needed the added distraction of worrying about them when he needed to look for Cassie. Without them though Cassie might not have been found. It had taken the particular combination of Pythagoras' brains and Jason's pig-headedness to locate and save the girls. If it weren't for them Hercules would still have been at the Palace with Dion trying to convince the King to allow a rescue mission, and would then have ended up going in the wrong direction and searching in the wrong place. By the time he had realised his mistake Cassie and the other girls might have been lost forever. Pythagoras was fairly certain that in spite of his current ire Hercules could be made to see that with some well thought out arguments. All he would have to ensure was that Jason kept a lid on his temper for the duration of the conversation and would allow Pythagoras to take the lead in reasoning with Hercules. It would help if they both appeared suitably contrite when Hercules broached the subject, and perhaps had some wine on hand – that always helped to soothe their older friend's temper.

Pythagoras looked speculatively at Jason. All he had to do now was to convince his dark haired friend to let him do the talking and to do that he needed to broach the subject with Jason first. He frowned. Jason, it appeared, was losing himself inside his own head again; drifting off into that dream world he sometimes went to when he was upset or worried about something. Pythagoras had learned to spot the signs over the last couple of months – both he and Hercules had actually – and could usually work out what was causing it. The only thing was he'd never known Jason to drift when they were still in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation before.

As he watched, though, he realised that his dark haired friend was completely aware of what was going on around him; had not lost himself completely; was simply deep in thought. He avoided any obstacles in his path neatly enough and broke out of his reverie to quiet the little girl he was carrying down when she started to get upset. Perhaps this was a coping strategy, Pythagoras thought. He knew that Jason had to be in pain – after all he was still limping badly most of the time and needed to put his feet up in the evenings to stop his knee from swelling and seizing up. His leg might be healing now but he was far from back to normal yet and the pounding he had given it this evening would only have exacerbated the injury. Plus Pythagoras had seen that slaver kick Jason and knew that his friend had been in very real pain as a result. Yet right now you would never know that he was hurt. Jason was walking confidently and fluidly with only the slightest hesitation in his movements that told those who knew him best that something was wrong. So perhaps losing himself in thought was helping him to keep going until they were in a place where he could sit down and rest. Pythagoras decided to confirm his theory. He moved alongside Jason.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Jason looked momentarily startled. He had been deep in thought and had not heard Pythagoras draw up to him.

"Yes," he answered. "My knee's a bit sore but I'll live. How about you?"

"I am tired," Pythagoras answered honestly. "Very tired."

"Yeah," Jason breathed. "Sleep sounds ridiculously good right now… do you think Hercules would mind if I had a lie in tomorrow?"

"A lie in what?" asked Pythagoras with some confusion.

"It means not getting up when you usually would… staying in bed later than normal," Jason explained.

"Ah," Pythagoras said. "In that case I do not think that Hercules will mind if either one of us has a 'lie in' tomorrow… in fact I think he will almost insist upon it."

Both young men chuckled lightly at their older friend's paternal and protective nature. Hercules could try to claim that he didn't worry about his friends all he liked but they both knew only too well just how much he fretted when either one of them seemed under the weather or unhappy. After a moment Jason looked at Pythagoras with a peculiarly sad smile.

"We did alright tonight didn't we?" he said softly. "Tonight we won."

"Yes we did," Pythagoras answered. "These children will be reunited with their families and the slavers are no longer a threat."

"This group anyway," Jason responded, his tone turning bitter.

Pythagoras frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"We stopped this gang but there'll just be someone else that takes their place won't there? As long as there are people who are willing to buy children there'll be more like them."

"Jason you cannot think like that," Pythagoras said firmly. "Tonight we have done the right thing – done a good thing – and these girls are safe as a result."

"And what about the next child that a grown man takes a fancy to? Who'll be there to save them?"

"It is not that simple and you know it," Pythagoras answered, "but I do understand how you feel."

"Do you?"

"Yes." Pythagoras said sharply. "You identify with these girls because you see yourself in them… but you cannot save everyone no matter how hard you try… and you should not punish yourself because of it."

Jason gave him that funny little sad smile again.

"You're right," he said with a sigh. "I should be grateful that we managed to get to _these_ girls in time."

"Quite," Pythagoras said. "Now we have only to return them to their families and we can think of getting home and finding our own beds… and listening to Hercules scold of course."

He was rewarded by a snort and a rueful smile from his dark haired friend. Inwardly Pythagoras smiled. His mission had been accomplished – Jason had been diverted from the dark path his mind was beginning to wander down.

"We're probably not going home tonight though are we?" Jason pointed out. "I mean Dion said that wouldn't be allowed to."

"Since when have you done as you were told?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason thought for a moment.

"Good point," he said. "I don't know about you but I'm a bit too tired to argue this time though."

"Indeed," Pythagoras agreed with a yawn.

The yawn quickly became a short barking cough that robbed him of his breath. He felt a hand on the centre of his back and looked up to see Jason looking at him, his hazel eyes wide and worried. Ahead of them Hercules had also turned around and Pythagoras could almost feel his older friend's concern from here.

"Do not worry so much," he murmured. "It is just a cough – nothing more."

"I shouldn't have dragged you out tonight," Jason fretted guiltily. "You should be at home in the warm."

"You did not 'drag' me anywhere. I made my own decision to come… and it was as well that I did. How far do you think you would have got without me?"

"I'd have managed," Jason protested, although he couldn't help but smile.

They walked on in silence for a time, listening to the innocent chatter of the little girls around them. Pythagoras marvelled at how resilient they were. After all they had been through a horrible ordeal over the last few days and must have been terrified. Now, however, they played little games as they went along or chatted brightly in hushed voices, talking about their families and homes. It seemed a miracle that they had been rescued before anything more horrific had happened to them. The more that Pythagoras thought about it, however, the more questions sprang up in his mind. How had Jason known which way to go in the tunnels to bring them all to safety? And come to that how had he known which warehouse to search in the first place? Had he seen the slavers go in? If so, why had they not seen him? Pythagoras knew that Jason could keep himself concealed when he really wanted to but surely with the speed he was running at he would not have had time. It all seemed unbelievably lucky somehow and the young genius wasn't entirely sure he believed in that much good fortune happening at one time.

"Jason?" he said, casting a sidelong look at his friend. "How did you know that that tunnel would bring us out onto the street?"

"What do you mean?" Jason asked, the defensive, guarded look that Pythagoras hated springing up in his eyes once more.

"Before we went down the stairs you told us that you had not had time to explore the corridor beyond the room where the girls were held but when we had to go down it you seemed to know exactly where you were going."

"It was just a guess," Jason answered shortly.

Pythagoras frowned. He could usually tell when Jason was trying to evade the truth and everything told him that he was doing it now – although he couldn't for the life of him think why that might be the case. Surely Jason had nothing to hide here? With a start he realised that Dion had drawn up behind them and was listening intently, his blue eyes curious.

"You seemed so certain," Pythagoras said. "You asked me to trust you and said that you knew we were going the right way. That did not seem like a guess."

"I was lucky, that was all." Jason shut down all further discussion. "Come on let's move a bit faster. The quicker we can get to the Temple the better."

He sped up a little, pulling ahead of his blonde friend. Pythagoras couldn't help noticing, however, that Jason had begun to limp slightly once more. He frowned, knowing that that was a sign that Jason was hurting far more badly than he was willing to admit to; knowing that when the adrenaline from the evening finally wore off Jason was likely to crash hard. His friend had remarkable willpower and at times seemingly inexhaustible energy and stamina but Pythagoras knew only too well that Jason was far from being indestructible or indefatigable and sooner or later he _would_ need to stop. The fact that he had already admitted to being very tired indicated to the young genius that it was likely to be sooner rather than later.

When the Temple finally came into view everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Soon the children would be back with their families – or at least could be looked after properly until their families could be located. For a moment though Jason paused at the bottom of the long flight of steps, mustering up the energy and willpower he knew he would need to get to the top. He could feel both his friends watching him closely and stubbornly gritted his teeth, knowing that there was no way either of them could help him while they were carrying the smallest of the children. He hitched the little girl resting on his hip up a little higher and set off, taking one step at a time.

By the time he was halfway up he was sweating and breathing hard, and fighting a losing battle to hide the pain each step was costing him. He paused again, trying to get his breath back. The presence of a figure at his elbow made him half turn and he found himself face to face with Hercules once more. To do him credit the big man didn't say a word. He moved the little girl he was carrying around onto his right arm and simply held his left out for Jason. With a muttered but heartfelt expression of thanks the young man slipped his arm around his older friend's shoulders leaning heavily on Hercules, although his grip on the little girl he carried remained secure. It helped, he decided, that the child was so small and light. With a grunt and a nod Hercules gestured for them to move on, he left arm gently encircling his young friend's waist.

At the top of the steps Jason let his arm drop from around Hercules' shoulders and brought it back around the little girl once more.

"Thanks," he murmured again. "I'll be alright now… it was just the steps that were a bit of a problem."

Hercules raised an eyebrow and looked disapprovingly at him, but knew better than to try to argue. It would be a futile exercise anyway given Jason's stubborn and independent nature – once he had made his mind up there was rarely any changing it. With a final half smile at the burly wrestler Jason limped through the Temple doors, following Dion and Talos inside.

The Temple was more brightly lit than was usual at this time of night and bore more of a resemblance to a refugee camp or a field hospital than to a place of worship. Apart from the usual fire-pits, braziers had been dragged in to the enormous space and beds and bed rolls were set up between the giant pillars. There were people everywhere; talking; eating; sleeping. Doctors were treating wounded soldiers and priests and priestesses brought comfort to the dying.

"Amathea!" a voice rang out across the floor and a middle-aged couple wearing the plain but serviceable clothing of a farming family ran across to catch their daughter up in their arms, crying and laughing at the same time.

Then, suddenly it seemed, they were surrounded by people reclaiming their daughters and clamouring to know where the lost children had been found. Jason couldn't help but shrink back slightly from the throng. He had never exactly relished being the centre of attention and since his breakdown had tended to avoid crowds if he could. A warm hand started to massage the back of his neck gently and without turning around he knew that Hercules was at his back, silently providing support. Above the babble a familiar voice sounded. It was Cinyras the doctor who had visited their home several times over the last week or so. He pushed his way through the crowd and looked straight at Pythagoras.

"I would ask what you thought you were doing out on a cold night such as this with your chest still weak," he said, "but right now I'm so busy that I don't have time. I was told you have some knowledge of the healing arts."

"I do," Pythagoras confirmed.

"Good. Then I have a job for you. I've a soldier losing too much blood and I need someone to hold a tourniquet while I cauterise the wound. There's no-one else to help me so you'll do." The seedy looking doctor grabbed the young mathematician's wrist and dragged him back through the crowd, disappearing with him behind a pillar.

Once they were gone the crowd pressed around once again, all talking at once and shouting with joy that their daughters were once again by their sides. The child Jason was carrying was plucked from his arms to be carried away by her grateful mother, who clutched the young man's arm and insisted on kissing him and praying that the Gods would look favourably upon him before she went. Jason was beyond embarrassed, dropping his eyes and muttering shyly that it was nothing. That of course earned him another kiss from the woman much to his mortification and Hercules' amusement.

"What is going on here?" a voice boomed from across the floor of the Temple.

The crowd parted to reveal the King striding towards them with the Queen at his elbow. Minos' face was stern and unreadable. As he reached the edge of the throng he stopped and looked about himself imperiously.

"I asked a question," he said firmly, "and I require an answer."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Thank you all once again for the lovely reviews and kind messages of support. I thought I'd get this chapter out extremely early this week to be in time for Christmas and as an early Christmas present for one of my friends - you know who you are :-)

Anyway please enjoy this offering and don't forget to leave me a review...

Oh and Merry Christmas!

* * *

><p>Hercules wanted to growl in frustration. Luck it seemed was really not on his side tonight. All he really wanted to do was to get the three of them home and make sure that both his young friends had a good night's rest and yet he was being hampered at every turn. First Dion had insisted that they were going to have to stay in the dratted Temple overnight and had indicated that he would arrest them if they tried to leave; then that seedy doctor had dragged Pythagoras off to help the wounded and goodness knows where they had got to (and persuading Pythagoras to leave the wounded and come and get some rest himself was going to be a challenge in itself); and now the King had arrived and was demanding a full explanation – and what the King wanted he <em>always<em> got; one did not deny him if one valued one's life. Hercules had felt Jason's discomfort growing as the crowd of grateful parents had crushed around them and much as it had amused him it also worried him; the lad was beyond tired, overwrought and clearly in pain and under those circumstances could be all too easily overwhelmed. While the burly wrestler knew that his friend had largely got back to normal over the last two months he still couldn't help but worry that Jason was more fragile than he sometimes seemed. Those memories that had resurfaced and all the associated trauma that had gone with them were still very raw and inflamed and tonight's escapade was only likely to exacerbate that – touching as it did on the potential abuse of children. Plus Jason had been having what Pythagoras termed as a "dark" day even before Talos had burst in with the news of Cassie's kidnap. What he probably needed most right now was to find somewhere quiet where he could relax and calm down and be persuaded with careful prompting (not nagging – Hercules did _not_ nag) to open up. Both Hercules and Pythagoras' had realised over the last couple of months that allowing Jason to bottle his feelings up was potentially very destructive.

As the King reiterated his demand for an explanation, Hercules felt Jason shift his weight onto his good leg to take some of the pressure off his bad. He frowned. The sooner they could get this over and done with and he could get Jason to sit down and let himself be checked over the better for all of them. Barely perceptibly the dark haired lad swayed slightly. Shifting his weight onto his left leg might have helped with the pain in his knee but it took him off balance. Hercules moved in next to Jason's left side, close enough that he could slide his arm into place behind the lad, palm resting warmly in the small of Jason's back, providing a solid support that the young man could lean into without appearing too; helping Jason to keep his balance while allowing him to take a little more weight off his knee by leaning against his burly friend.

From her position at Minos' elbow Pasiphae's sharp eyes picked up this careful manoeuvring and frowned. Without appearing to take any particular interest in any of the people in front of her the Queen scrutinised her son. It was the closest she had been to him while they were both conscious since he was a tiny child and her heart leapt a little at the thought that he was almost within touching distance. Jason looked tired, she decided – very tired. Although she could see no obvious injuries he was clearly favouring one leg (though she doubted that many of those present would realise that) and the way his friend was hovering spoke of a deep rooted concern. This was a dangerous situation and was most definitely not the way in which she would wish her husband to meet his stepson. Events had moved outside her control, however, and with Minos determined to discover the identity of her son the best she could hope for was to make this as easy as possible. Her conversation with the Oracle had confirmed what she already knew – that her husband _was_ going to learn who Jason was soon – but even the Seer had been unable to tell her how Minos would react.

"General Dion," Minos commanded, "perhaps you would care to tell me why you are not inspecting the troops on the eastern wall as you were ordered."

Hercules and Jason exchanged a startled look and turned to stare at Dion in surprise. While they had both realised that he was some kind of officer neither one of them had expected him to hold such an exalted rank – although Hercules had had the suspicion that he was perhaps something more than a simple captain from the way in which he had effectively ordered his men to disregard their prior orders and take part in the mission to rescue the girls and the guards had simply followed him without question.

"Your Majesty," Dion began. "Over the last few days there have been incidents throughout the city where little girls have been going missing. They have been the daughters of some of the unfortunate people who have taken refuge in our great city in the face of the Amphigeneian army. I had received several reports which indicated that a band of slavers were operating within the city and were targeting the children of the refugee families in the belief that they would not be able to obtain official help to recover their lost offspring."

Minos scowled deeply.

"Slavers? In _my_ city?" he growled. "Why is this the first I have heard of the matter?"

"My Lord, I spoke to your chief advisor, Lord Kephalon, yesterday. He informed me that you were not to be disturbed with this matter; that with the Amphigeneian siege there were far more important considerations than a few lost little girls. He suggested that I should forget the matter and return to the duties he had assigned for me."

Pasiphae carefully schooled her expression into one of indifference but inside she was crowing. Kephalon had made many fundamental errors of judgement over the last few days (challenging her in front of the War Council had not been his finest hour) yet this was undoubtedly the worst and the one that might potentially lead to his downfall. One did not keep news from the King – especially news that impacted on the wellbeing of the people; Minos cared too much for his city and his people to ignore a matter like this. Beside her she felt her husband bristle, his eyes flashing fire. For all she would not mourn the loss of his chief advisor it was important that Minos' temper be diverted before the full impact of it could potentially fall on her son. Now was not the time for misunderstandings – not when she had so much at stake. She reached out one slim hand and placed it comfortingly on Minos' arm, smiling reassuringly as he turned to glance at her. The King's eyes softened as he looked at her and he patted her hand gently before turning back to the rapidly dwindling group in front of him. Many of the refugees who had been crowding around the men had taken the opportunity to grab their children and melt away while Minos had been looking at Pasiphae, none of them wanting to risk the wrath of the King falling on them even by mistake.

"I will speak with Lord Kephalon in the morning," the King promised, his tone frosty. "I am grateful to you for bringing this matter to my attention General Dion. It does not, however, explain to me what is going on now." He looked back at Dion with an eyebrow raised.

"I was leading a patrol to the Eastern Wall as instructed to inspect the troops and the defences there when the latest attack was sounded. Shortly afterwards we ran into these men here," Dion gestured towards Talos and Hercules. "It was long past curfew and I asked for an explanation of their presence on the street before I arrested them. They informed me that this man's daughter had been kidnapped by the slavers. They had attacked him in the street and taken his daughter from him. Apparently they had mistaken her for the child of a refugee although her father is in fact a citizen of Atlantis. I felt that they could be of some assistance in the recovery of the children and decided to return to the Palace to request an audience with Your Majesty to obtain permission to search for the kidnapped girls. As we passing along the Sacred Way we were stopped by a young man – a friend of these men… I believe he is currently assisting one of the doctor's with a wounded soldier. He informed me that he and this young man," he dropped a heavy hand onto Jason's shoulder, "had run across the slavers. This young man had given chase in spite of already being injured. I took the decision at that point to follow. I am aware that I was not strictly speaking following the orders I had been given but I felt that if Your Majesty had known the situation you would have approved of my actions and I did not feel that there was time to wait. We encountered the slavers in a warehouse in the industrial district. After a short fight those that survived were killed or apprehended. I have taken the liberty of sending a man for reinforcements to bring the survivors to the cells to await your judgement. This young man," he gestured to Jason again, "and his friends rescued the children and led them to safety. We brought them to the Temple as I believed that was the best place to find their parents and then I had planned to return to the Palace and make a full report."

Minos nodded thoughtfully.

"You have done well," he said firmly. He stepped forwards towards the group and stopped in front of Jason, looking hard at the young man.

"It would seem that our paths are perennially destined to cross," he stated. "You have made quite a mark on my city since you arrived here. I owe you my thanks once again."

"You owe me nothing, My Lord," Jason answered softly, ducking his head slightly.

Minos half smiled. A glint of gold caught his eye and he found himself staring at the necklace the young man before him wore. It bore the symbol of the Oracle. Perhaps the lad wore it in honour of the Seeress or perhaps he served Poseidon in some way. Yet somewhere within the King a memory stirred; a half forgotten image came to mind of a similar necklace being played with by a small child in the long distant past. He strove to remember where and when he had seen that necklace before and jerked his eyes up to the young man's face, wondering for the first time where the boy had appeared from.

"It is ironic perhaps that I know so little about you given how often you have stood before me," he murmured. "You arrive in my city, kill the Minotaur, leap the bulls, compete in the Pankration and save my daughter's life in just a few short months. You were at the centre of other… events… just two months ago…" Minos did not fail to notice the way Jason paled at the reference or the way the lad bit his lip unconsciously, and winced at his own lack of tact. "I am sorry," he apologised softly. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable or stir up painful memories."

Pasiphae started. It was a rare thing for Minos to apologise to anyone much less a young man who to his eyes was nothing more than a peasant. It gave her hope that perhaps he had some level of respect for her son already.

"And now here you are again at the heart of this situation," the King went on. "Yet I do not even know your name."

"It's Jason, Your Majesty."

"Jason!" Minos made a sound that was half gasp and half bitter laugh. He flashed a look at his wife, taking in her rigid posture with a single glance before turning back to search the young face in front of him. His eyes narrowed before flickering with a light that could almost have been recognition. "Who are your parents, boy? Where do they come from?"

"My Father was from Atlantis," Jason answered softly. "I came here in search of him."

"And did you find him?"

"He's dead," Jason said shortly. "The Oracle confirmed it."

"What of your mother?" the King asked.

"She died shortly after I was born," Jason answered. "I know nothing of her beyond that."

"An orphaned young man named Jason, whose path keeps crossing my own… It appears that the Gods have a sense of humour after all," Minos murmured ironically, turning away.

Jason flicked a quick confused look at Hercules. The burly wrestler had gone pale although he clearly tried to rally at his younger friend's questioning glance.

"I must consult the Oracle," the King stated, half to himself. "There are aspects of this situation that must be explored carefully."

"We'll be on our way then, My Lord," Hercules interjected almost desperately. "You're busy and we've got a home to go to."

Minos turned back looking almost amused.

"You will not be returning to your home tonight," he said. "The curfew is still in force and I may have further… questions for you. No doubt a place can be found for you to sleep in the Temple tonight and in the morning I may require your services again."

Hercules gulped and nodded. It seemed that there was no way he could get his friends home tonight – he might have been able to get around Dion's restrictions (even if the man _was_ a general) but a direct instruction from the King could not be disobeyed.

As Minos began to stalk away, Pasiphae looked at her son for one last time, her eyes flickering briefly over him. As her gaze reached the floor at Jason's feet she stopped and looked again. There on the flagstones by his left foot was a small puddle of blood, not large enough to have issued from a serious wound but still there nevertheless. In spite of her determination to stay calm and aloof the Queen was across the floor in a few short steps, frowning darkly – her fear for her son's wellbeing overriding all else.

"You are bleeding," she pointed out sharply.

Jason looked down blankly at the floor for a moment before glancing at his own hands. He peered at the left one and then shrugged.

"I must have caught it on something," he muttered to himself.

"Let me see it," Pasiphae demanded, her tone imperious.

"It's just a scratch, My Lady" Jason protested.

"Show me the wound. I will not ask again," the Queen insisted.

Warily Jason turned his hand over to show the Queen his palm. There was a long cut running straight across the centre from one side to the other. Pasiphae inspected it carefully.

"You are right that it is not serious," she said. "However even the merest scratch can become infected if it is not cleaned and dressed properly."

"My friend Pythagoras will look at it later," Jason said quietly.

"Your friend appears to be far too busy with the wounded from the battle," Pasiphae answered sharply. "I have some knowledge of the healing arts. I will see to this myself."

Before Jason could protest any further she called for a passing servant.

"I require warm water and a cloth, some comfrey and a strip of clean linen for a bandage," Pasiphae instructed. She turned back to Jason. "Come, we may sit over there." She gestured towards the wide square base of a pillar set at a reasonable height for sitting on from the floor.

Jason watched her calmly but warily, his suspicion at her motives evident in his eyes; his gaze direct and challenging. Pasiphae suppressed the urge to sigh. He has no reason to trust me, she reminded herself firmly, but that will change. She tapped her foot briskly on the floor and stared at the young man until his eyes dropped and he flushed.

"I will not be kept waiting," she snapped.

Jason scowled and followed her to the pillar, perching on the very edge of the stonework and looking anywhere but at her. Pasiphae could not help but notice the limp he was clearly trying to hide and frowned again. Before she could comment the servant was back with the items she had requested. Seating herself alongside her son, she carefully placed the bowl of water on the floor by her feet and the comfrey and linen bandage alongside it. Stooping she wet and partially wrung out the cloth and then turned towards Jason, catching his hand in her own and beginning the process of gently cleansing the wound. With some dismay she realised that her hands were trembling slightly. Somehow, despite the machinations she had gone through to try to reclaim her son as her own, she had never truly expected to be here and suddenly found herself hideously unprepared for the reality of being face to face with the boy. Trying to complete her task as gently as possible she continued to mop the blood away from Jason's hand. He didn't so much as murmur she noted with some pride, even though she knew from experience that the act of cleaning the wound would be causing him some pain.

Finally, her task completed, she reached down and picked up the comfrey, crushing it between her fingers and laying the leaves over the cut, before binding it carefully with the strip of linen.

"A poultice would have been better," she said softly, "but I do not have the other ingredients I require and I cannot ask any of the doctors to spare supplies at the moment. The leaves should suffice however, and the wound should heal well."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Jason answered equally softly.

Pasiphae looked at him and allowed herself a brief smile, noticing the questions and uncertainty in his eyes.

"Perhaps I am not who you believe me to be," she murmured. "I believe you and I have more in common than you think."

Jason frowned. He had come to believe that the Queen was an evil witch with megalomaniac tendencies over the last few months, but he could hardly voice that here and now. He had not missed the way her hands shook as she held his, holding on for a little longer than was strictly speaking necessary once the bandage was tied, nor missed the apparently genuine concern in her eyes as she looked at him. By rights he should expect some sort of trick and yet he found himself more at ease in her company than he would have thought was possible. What exactly was going on here? His mind was screaming at him that he should in no way trust the woman alongside him but something in him seemed to react to her at a much more basic level and he found himself unwilling to pull away.

For a long moment they sat in a silence that, bizarrely, was almost comfortable. Then Pasiphae seemed to rouse herself and the mask of the Queen fell back into place.

"If you have any other injuries it would be in your best interests to inform me now," she said briskly.

"I do not," Jason answered.

"And yet you were limping as we came over here."

"That is not new," Jason said. "I twisted my knee several days ago. It is healing and I am fine."

He pushed himself up to stand, trying hard to hide how much his leg was hurting right now. His knee was definitely swollen and had seized up as he sat. The kick from the slaver hadn't helped matters either but until he had a chance to rest there was no good in making a fuss. Besides which he really didn't think it would be a good idea to show weakness in front of the Queen – she was after all Ariadne's greatest enemy and by extension his. As he went to take a step, however, his right knee betrayed him, giving way beneath himself. He would have fallen but for a pair of surprisingly strong slender arms that caught him around the shoulders and held him in place. He looked up, more startled than ever, into Pasiphae's dark eyes.

"Perhaps not quite so fine after all, silly boy," she chided sharply as she eased him back down to sit against the pillar.

For her part the Queen was thoroughly rattled. She had not expected that being so close to Jason would affect her so much – and they had been close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. Her son was no longer a distant memory or a longed for dream; she was not watching him at a distance now. He was a living, breathing reality in front of her and she was struggling to keep control of her emotions under the circumstances. Something nagged at her however, in spite of her inner turmoil; something she had noticed as she had stopped his fall. With a frown she reached out one slender hand and touched the young man's face and brow. His skin was like ice.

"You," she snapped to the servant who had brought her the medical supplies, hovering near to where they sat in case the Queen had any further requirements, "bring me a blanket."

She turned back to Jason, noting that his older friend was marching purposefully towards them, clearly having seen the lad lose his balance, his expression resolute. At the last moment he was side-tracked by the arrival of the third member of the trio – the skinny, clever one – and she watched with some amusement as they began a spirited conversation, the bulkier man gesticulating wildly towards Jason while the other one answered with clearly placating comments. Then the hurrying servant reappeared with a soft blanket that the Queen took wordlessly and wrapped around the young man's shoulders.

"You are frozen through," she admonished. "Do you not have a cloak?"

"Of course I do," Jason retorted sharply. "I just forgot it."

"On a cold night like tonight? I am truly astounded that you have survived as long as you have since you do not seem to have the brains you were born with."

She realised her mistake immediately as Jason bristled. This was not the time to antagonise the boy. The next few days could prove difficult enough with the siege and her campaign to make Jason fully acceptable to Minos without the young man digging his heels in stubbornly and refusing to accept anything that she had to offer. And what if he did not accept? What if he refused to believe that he truly was her son? She shuddered at the thought. No matter how much she planned, Jason was the one variable that she simply could not fully predict. Surely her son would be able to see the benefits of the situation? Whatever happened she would find a way to ensure his compliance, she decided.

Still it would be preferable to make the transition as painless as possible for Jason. She had no time to prepare him – no time to gently ease him into the truth – and deep down she had a horrible feeling that Jason was far from ready to hear what she needed to tell him. The feeling of uncertainty was the worst. For years now she had striven for control – for power – and had achieved full mastery over herself and her surroundings. Jason's presence was an anomaly that she had never allowed for – he was the weakness that she had not even known she had. She needed to draw away now; to calm herself in preparation for what was to come.

"I must return to my duties," Pasiphae said stiffly. "No doubt your friends will be here in a few moments to ensure that I have not harmed you." She paused and looked at Jason. "As the King said you cannot return to your home tonight but no doubt a bed will be found for you here." Her tone became gentler. "You should try to get some rest. The days to come may be hard upon us all."

With that final suggestion she stood and glided away, willing herself not to look back.

* * *

><p>Jason watched Atlantis' fearsome Queen sashaying away from him with some confusion. Far from being the cold, evil, power-hungry monster he had thought her to be she had seemed almost… human; caring even. There must be something for her to gain by being nice to him but what it was he couldn't yet imagine. Still he would be on his guard and on the lookout for any nasty surprises. Mentally he shook himself. It had been an odd day all things considered – from the weird dreams of last night to those strange flashes he kept getting at the warehouse that seemed to tell him where he should be going, and now this odd almost friendly exchange with a woman who he believed to be his enemy… just what the hell was going on? He couldn't quite put it all together somehow; was too tired to even try. He felt drained and detached – and he knew from bitter experience that that was not a good thing.<p>

"Are you alright?" Pythagoras sounded worried.

Jason smiled, trying to pull his head back together, and looked at his friends.

"Yeah," he answered. "Tired and achy but I'll be fine."

With a weary sigh Pythagoras sat down next to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Because it looked suspiciously as though you had caused more damage to your knee. You practically fell on top of the Queen."

"It just gave way," Jason admitted. "It's a bit swollen and stiff this evening. I don't think I've actually hurt it again… it's more that I've probably been doing a bit too much."

"You're still going to get it checked to make sure," Hercules growled coming around to sit on Jason's other side and giving the young man a hard stare.

Jason nodded absently, his mind still caught up on his encounter with the Queen.

"What did Pasiphae want with you anyway?" Hercules continued suspiciously.

"Nothing really," Jason murmured distantly.

Hercules scowled.

"She must have wanted something," he insisted. "What did she say to you?"

"Nothing much," Jason said softly. "She bandaged up my hand and told me off for going out tonight without a cloak and suggested I should try and get some rest. It was weird… it was almost like she was worried; like she…" He trailed off thoughtfully.

"Like she what?" prompted Pythagoras.

"Like she… cared." Jason visibly shook himself, completely missing the worried glance that passed between his companions. "Stupid of me… sorry… my imagination's gone into overdrive this evening. I'm just tired."

"Both of you are tired," Hercules grumbled looking between the two younger men. "We'd better be looking for somewhere to bed down for the night and I don't think it's going to be all that comfortable."

"Come on Hercules, we've all slept in worse places," Jason answered.

"Maybe we have but the two of you didn't need to tonight. All you had to do was do as you were told and you could be nice and comfortable at home right now."

Jason rolled his eyes.

"And Cassie and the other girls would still have been in the hands of the slavers," he pointed out.

"I would have managed," Hercules protested. "You don't know that we wouldn't have found them even without you."

"And you don't know that you would," Jason argued. "What's done is done. Let's just make the best of things now. I'm sure there's somewhere we can camp in here that won't be too bad."

"We don't even have any blankets," Hercules grumbled.

"I do," Jason said with an impudent little grin pulling the blanket Pasiphae had given him a little tighter around his shoulders.

Pythagoras winced. Hercules was getting more and more irritated with every passing moment and Jason's casual disregard for his own wellbeing was only contributing to that. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened since he had gone with Cinyras to assist in the treatment of a badly wounded soldier although Hercules had briefly mentioned that the King had spoken to both him and Jason and had instructed them not to leave the Temple tonight. The big man had been more concerned, however, with the fact that the Queen had swept in and demanded that Jason go off on his own with her. He was quite naturally suspicious of her motives – worried that she meant to harm Jason or even worse tell him the truth. When Hercules had seen Jason half fall only to be caught by Pasiphae he had been almost beside himself with worry and it had been all that Pythagoras – arriving at precisely the right moment – could do to prevent him from marching over and dragging Jason away, which could have proved seriously detrimental to the burly wrestler's health given the Queen's fearsome reputation and legendary ruthlessness.

"Speaking of finding somewhere to settle down for the night I was speaking to Cinyras and he has saved a place for the three of us," Pythagoras interjected. "It is simply some thickly laid straw covered with spare sheets and blankets but it should be comfortable enough I would think – certainly more comfortable than sleeping straight on the stone floor would be."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Hercules demanded crossly.

Pythagoras looked embarrassed.

"I forgot," he confessed. "Cinyras _did_ mention that he wanted to check us both over before we retire for the night though," he added looking at Jason apologetically.

Hercules gave an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes melodramatically.

"And where is this place that's been saved for us?" he asked sharply.

"Over there behind that pillar." Pythagoras gestured to the far side of the Temple.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Hercules asked standing up and gesticulating impatiently.

Pythagoras sighed and pushed himself wearily to his feet. He was exhausted and the muscles in his chest felt tight and sore, and he had a sinking suspicion that Hercules might be intending to launch into a lecture just as soon as they were all settled when all Pythagoras really wanted to do was to collapse onto a bed and sleep.

Jason on the other hand didn't immediately get up to join his friends. He wasn't at all sure that his knee would hold his weight the way it was currently feeling, especially after it had given way the last time he had attempted to move just a few minutes ago. He didn't want to put his friends to any worry or trouble but at the moment he couldn't see any way he could get himself across to the other side of the Temple without their help. He would have to ask for help and accept whatever scolding he got for putting his body through the pounding he had given it this evening. He looked up ready to ask for assistance to find Hercules looking back at him knowingly, his arm already outstretched. Jason blinked in surprise.

"Don't just sit there with an idiotic look on your face," Hercules said.

"Thank you," Jason answered gratefully as he pushed himself up, gasping slightly as he put weight on his injured leg.

Hercules frowned deeply and caught his friend around the waist, pulling Jason in to his side and dragging his arm across his own shoulders so that he could support a fair amount of the young man's weight. With Pythagoras trotting ahead to lead the way they set off slowly across the floor. Hercules would really have liked to be moving a bit quicker than they were – reasoning that the quicker they got to their allotted sleeping area the quicker he could make sure that both boys were resting and comfortable – but it rapidly became apparent that Jason was moving as fast as he could right now. Hercules sighed. The dark haired lad was clearly just about at the end of his endurance and the burly wrestler had a feeling that Pythagoras was not far behind. Jason was trembling slightly with the effort it was taking him just to walk across the great chamber and Hercules tightened his grip on his young friend unconsciously.

The place that Pythagoras led them to was about as comfortable as was possible the big man was pleased to see. Three beds had been carefully laid out on the floor near a glowing brazier – thick piles of straw forming makeshift mattresses, covered with thick sheets and blankets both to prevent any of the spiky straw sticking through and for warmth, with pillows at one end. Hercules was more than a little touched at the thought the seedy looking doctor had put in to their comfort.

"Talos helped to set it up," Pythagoras murmured, "and I think he might have had help from some of the other parents. Everyone was very kind." He sank onto one of the mattresses with an audible sigh of contentment, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Letting go of Hercules Jason carefully lowered himself onto another of the beds and let his head drop back onto the pillow with his eyes closed. A sharp tap on his good leg startled him and he opened his eyes wide to see Hercules glowering at him grumpily.

"No going to sleep yet," the big man rumbled. "Not until the doctor has checked your knee."

Jason sighed but pushed himself back up into a sitting position. It seemed that sleep would have to wait a little longer. He slowly loosened and removed his breastplate and began to undo the lacings on his wrist cuffs, raising his hand to cover his mouth as he yawned.

"I'm glad to see you're actually sitting down," a raspy voice said.

Jason blinked tiredly at Cinyras. The seedy looking doctor regarded him coolly before going on.

"Now let's see what damage you've managed to do to yourself this time," he said.

As the doctor began to examine Jason, Hercules gestured to Pythagoras to follow him. The young genius forced himself to follow his friend, knowing that Hercules was worried about something, but he couldn't help cursing under his breath at the fact that he was not being allowed to rest. Once they were far enough away, out of earshot but still within sight of their friend, Hercules stopped and turned to Pythagoras, his concern written on his face.

"Minos knows," he said without preamble.

"Minos knows what?" Pythagoras asked frowning in confusion.

"Who Jason is," Hercules answered. "He started asking about what happened this evening and then commented on how often he'd seen Jason and yet knew nothing about him and all of a sudden he got this strange look on his face. He looked really hard at Jason and it was like he suddenly recognised him, and then he asked his name and all about his parents."

"Maybe he was just interested," Pythagoras pointed out.

"No it was more than that. I was there and I'm telling you he knows. He said that he needed to confirm some things with the Oracle and he might have more questions for us in the morning… I'm certain that he's worked it out… Then there was all that with Pasiphae… I'm telling you that they're going to come for Jason… and soon."

"How did Minos react?"

"I don't know," Hercules snapped. "He wasn't angry as such but he didn't exactly seem overjoyed either. If he does decide that Jason's a threat we need to be ready to grab him and run."

"Straight through a besieging army?" Pythagoras said incredulously. "Hercules be serious."

"I am," the burly wrestler retorted. "I'm being deadly serious. If the worst comes to the worst we have to be ready to go. I don't know about you but I'm not about to let anything happen to _him_," he nodded towards Jason, "just because the King is scared that someone wants his throne."

"We need to warn Jason," Pythagoras murmured.

"And say what exactly? Sorry no-one's told you before but actually your father was the former King, your mother is an evil murderous witch and your stepfather wants to kill you just because you're alive? How can we tell him that?"

"We do not know that Minos will want him dead," Pythagoras objected.

"No," Hercules agreed, "but we need to be ready in case he does."

"I still believe that Jason deserves to know the truth," Pythagoras said firmly. "I did not tell him when I first stumbled on the theory because he was not in any fit state to be told at the time. Now, however, he has a right to know and if you will not tell him then I will."

"Alright," Hercules growled, "we'll tell him… but let him get a good night's sleep first. There's no point doing it now… he'd only spend all night stewing on it when he should be sleeping. You both look about ready to drop right now… It'll be better coming at this when we're all fresh."

"Very well," Pythagoras said. "I will not say anything tonight but first thing in the morning we will talk to Jason."

They returned to the area that their beds were in just as Cinyras was finishing checking over their housemate.

"Well you haven't done any major damage," the seedy doctor said, "but you have put unnecessary additional strain on that knee and set yourself back by a few days, and the kick you told me you had received has caused some rather nasty additional bruising. It's very swollen again and I'm guessing very tender as well – it is likely to be very stiff and sore for a few more days. You're going to need to use cold compresses to bring the swelling down and I have a tonic to ease the discomfort. Keep your leg elevated with rolled blankets or pillows overnight and the swelling should be a lot better by morning." He levelled a stern gaze at Jason. "But," he added, "once you're home tomorrow I want you completely off your feet for a full day and then back onto crutches for a couple of days after that… You're very lucky that you didn't do serious damage running around the way you did tonight."

Jason sighed and nodded.

"I know," he said, "and I promise I'll do what I'm told… I just didn't think I had a lot of choice."

"Just try not to undo my good work this time," Cinyras sighed. He turned to Pythagoras with his eyebrows raised. "Your turn," he said firmly. "Sit yourself down right now… I want to make sure you have not made yourself ill again running around in this cold weather."

As the doctor began to examine the blonde mathematician, Jason relaxed back on the pillows as Hercules once again positioned rolled blankets under his knee and fetched a cold cloth to use as a compress. For all the dark haired lad was exhausted he also had a lot to think about and he wasn't sure how easily sleep would find him. Gradually though his eyes drifted closed as his burly friend pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. As the warning bell tolled to mark the end of the latest attack on the city, Jason let all thought drift away as he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

><p>Pasiphae stood in a window overlooking the city, staring down into the moon-washed square below and trying to pull her jangled thoughts back together. It was late – late enough that even without the curfew there would have been few people left on the street – but the Queen of Atlantis felt no urge to retire to her chambers for the night. It would do no good at all to lie in bed fruitlessly churning over her first proper encounter with her son. Far better to find something to occupy her mind until she was ready to sleep. She sighed. Sleep would not come easily this night, she admitted to herself. Her mind was too full of Jason. Even her plans for the future – always at least two moves ahead of everybody else – had been displaced as she mentally relived each second of their conversation.<p>

There had been something wondrous, she decided, about sitting there and simply drinking in the presence of her son. Did that make her weak? Pasiphae had never had any time for weak willed women who gave in to their children's every whim; who cossetted and spoiled them; wrapped them up in swaddling clothes and tried to protect them from the world. Although she could envisage Jason's independent and forthright nature causing some problems later she still rejoiced in the fact that her son clearly knew how to stand on his own two feet and neither expected nor demanded protection from anyone. She would not coddle him; would not make excuses for any deficiencies in his behaviour; would expect him to learn how to act properly and behave with the decorum demanded of a member of the royal household. No she was not and would not be weak – it was simply that having been separated from the boy for so long she wished to enjoy the simple pleasure of being near him; wished to rediscover what it felt like to be a mother – to be _his_ mother.

"How long have you known?" Minos' cool voice startled her from her thoughts.

Pasiphae did not insult either his intelligence or her own by pretending not to know what he was talking about; by making out that she did not know the identity of her son.

"Not all that long," she murmured softly. "I visited the Oracle this evening." The two statements were not really connected but Pasiphae intended that Minos would assume that they were.

"As did I." The King came to stand behind his wife. "She confirmed the boy's identity although it was not really necessary… I had already realised who he must be from my conversation with him… he has no idea who he really is does he?"

"No," Pasiphae answered. "He believes what he told you – that his mother died shortly after his birth... How did you discover his identity?"

"His name simply confirmed things really. The boy's path has crossed our own one too many times for it to be a coincidence. It is as though the Gods have been pushing him into our paths; as though they were laughing at us… and when I looked at him – really looked at him – it was clear who he must be." He paused. "He has your eyes. I have seen that necklace that he wears before as well – in the hands of a child who was barely more than a baby. It took me a little while to place the memory but when I did I realised that the child I was remembering was your son."

"The necklace was a gift," Pasiphae said, her voice soft and reflective – remembering. "The Oracle presented it to Aeson when the boy was born. It hung above Jason's crib when he was a baby. It was supposed to give him Poseidon's blessing; to protect him. As he grew it would have been packed away to be presented to him when he was presented to the phratria for the first time at sixteen. It would have shown his status as Poseidon's servant. Aeson must have taken it with him when he stole Jason from me." She looked up sharply at her husband, her face hardening once more. "What are you planning to do to the boy?"

"Nothing," Minos answered. "I promised you that I would not hold him responsible for his father's failings and that as long as he did nothing to challenge me I would not harm him. I do not forget that there is as much of you in him as there is Aeson. To that promise I will hold true – my word is my bond in this matter." He sighed. "With the Amphigeneian siege and the demands made of us, Jason's re-emergence could be a blessing," he admitted. "Anaxandros will not be expecting us to be able to produce Aeson's heir and although he is unlikely to believe the truth it might just buy us the time we need."

"And afterwards?"

Minos sighed.

"I am not the Oracle," he said firmly. "I do not know what the future will hold. The boy is clearly uncultured… unversed in our ways and customs… and possibly even uneducated, although we will have to ascertain that of course. He clearly does not have the first idea of etiquette… of how one behaves in proper society… is little more than a peasant."

Pasiphae bristled, immediately feeling the need to come to her son's defence.

"He has been raised far from Atlantis," she snapped sharply. "I believe that he may even have been raised beyond the borders of Greece. It is unreasonable to expect him to know everything that he ought under those circumstances. He was always an intelligent and inquisitive child, however, and I am certain that with the proper instruction he will learn all that he needs to know."

"Of that I have no doubt, my love," Minos answered placatingly. "At present though his knowledge and behaviour leave something to be desired. I will grant you that the boy is brave, spirited and virtuous… his behaviour towards my daughter during my illness proved that… but he also speaks out of turn and does not seem to have the faintest grasp of proper behaviour in the presence of royalty. For your sake I am pleased that Jason is alive and that we have located him and I will try to be fair and just towards him – but my love you must see the size of the task before us. It will take a great deal of work on all our parts – Jason's most of all – for him to take his place as a member of the court and of our family… and he must be willing. There is the possibility that he will not want to acknowledge his heritage and in that case we will need to take hard decisions. Do we allow him to continue living in obscurity in the city knowing that there is the chance that one day his identity will be discovered by others? Do we risk him being used as a figurehead for a rebellion? Or do we remove the boy from the city – send him into exile far away from our borders?"

Pasiphae went cold.

"You said you would not harm him," she stated coldly.

"And I will not," her husband sought to reassure her. "But you must accept that if Jason refuses to accept who he is you may have no choice but to harden your heart and learn to live with the knowledge that he will not be part of your life. I hope for all our sakes that this does not come to pass but you must be ready for that eventuality."

"And if he should prove willing to accept his place and his heritage?"

"Then we will see how quickly he can learn and how adaptable he can be. I will not make unreasonable demands on the boy – will not expect him to learn everything overnight – but I will expect that he learns to moderate his speech and learns proper manners in short order." Minos paused and sighed. "If the boy should prove to adapt himself well to his new role then it may be another blessing. I am aware of my daughter's… _feelings_ for him and would wish to see her happy. I wish to leave Atlantis in a strong position for the future. Ariadne will be a good Queen… I am sure of it. But a Queen must have a King by her side to govern and rule. It would be better for Atlantis if Ariadne's choice of suitor were not from another state. She must marry for the benefit of the city but any outsider would naturally put the needs of their own state first. If Jason should prove to be acceptable it would solve a great many problems." He smiled and placed a warm hand on his wife's shoulder. "That is for the future, however. Now we must look to the present. The boy must be told of his heritage and encouraged to accept it."

"I believe that his sense of duty will help," Pasiphae admitted. "I will return to the Oracle in the morning and ask for her guidance," she could not help the bitterness that crept into her tone. "It appears that Jason has consulted her on several occasions in the past and that they have formed a… _bond_."

Minos raised an eyebrow.

"That may be the wisest course," he murmured. "The guidance of the Oracle is never something to be ignored." He squeezed Pasiphae's shoulder lightly. "Do not worry though, my love. Your own bond with your son will grow in time. It can only have been the hand of Fate that brought him back to Atlantis at this time… If you believe nothing else believe that I am truly happy for you Pasiphae. It is rare indeed that the Gods grant such a miracle… and I hope that it is the start of a brighter future for all of us. For now though my love you should try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."

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><p>It was hideously late when the sound of soft feet approaching woke Pythagoras from his well-earned sleep. A quick glance about him in the fading light of the guttering brazier revealed that Hercules was still snoring away in his bed, making a sound more usually associated with some sort of wild pig than a man, and Jason was a sprawled tangle half hidden beneath the pile of blankets their burly friend had deemed necessary to warm him up. He was muttering slightly and wriggling in his sleep, a sure sign that he was worried about something, although he did not appear to be having a nightmare. So the approaching feet did not belong to either of Pythagoras' friends. That raised a whole new set of questions in the blonde's mind. Perhaps he should wake Hercules, but what would he tell him? That he had heard a noise in the dark and had got scared? He could just imagine the ridicule that he would be subjected to, especially as he had no reason to believe that the owner of the footsteps had any nefarious intentions towards them; no reason to believe that whoever it was wanted anything from them at all. It was quite possible that it was simply someone who had needed the latrine and was now returning to their own sleeping place.<p>

The footsteps drew ever closer until suddenly they stopped before hurrying forwards until they were right by Pythagoras and his friends. The mathematician lay silently in the dark, scarcely daring to breathe, with his eyes tightly closed. After a few moments he realised that the person (whoever it was) was not passing on and he cracked open his eyes to see what was going on. If there was any danger to his friends he was sure that a quick shout would bring them to consciousness fairly quickly – well Jason at least. Hercules could sleep through pretty much anything and often needed a physical slap to wake him. There was a figure in the darkness near the bottom of Pythagoras' bed; a figure swathed in a heavy cloak. It crept forwards until in the faint light of the glowing embers provided by the brazier the Queen's face was revealed. Pythagoras resisted the urge to gasp in shock and alert the fearsome woman to his presence. He forced his breathing to remain calm and lay still in the darkness, watching to see what the witch intended to do.

Pasiphae did not really know what had brought her here. She had tried to sleep and yet had been plagued by the nagging feeling that she needed to check on her son; needed to see for herself that Jason was sleeping peacefully. I am growing weak, she admonished herself. But was it weakness to wish to make sure that her son was well? Was it weakness to desire to know that _someone_ had seen to his comfort? It was not she decided. It was her right as his mother to know that he was well. Decision made she had wrapped herself in a cloak and slipped through the secret passageway that linked the Palace to the Temple.

Now here she was, standing over her slumbering son and watching him as he slept. He looked so very young to her eyes, so desperately innocent somehow, and her heart clenched at the sight of him; a sight she had never allowed herself to believe that she would see. His face was unguarded as he slept, his hair a tangled mass of curls that fell on the pillow. Pasiphae frowned. That was something that needed attending to sooner rather than later. Jason's hair was far too long for a respectable young man; was the sort of length that only a ruffian or a bandit would wear. Her first acts once he knew the truth would be to ensure that his hair was cut and he was found some clothes more suited to his station than those he currently wore.

She watched Jason for a little longer, noting with a growing frown that he moved uneasily in his sleep and muttered under his breath. Tentatively she stretched out her hand and gently carded it through his dark hair, marvelling at the softness of the curls entwined in her fingers. Jason let out a contented sigh and turned his face towards her. Pasiphae froze but her son did not wake; did not stir. He simply relaxed beneath her hand. The Queen allowed herself a slight smile and resumed her gentle petting until she could see that Jason was deeply asleep once more. In spite of her determination to remain aloof, to not give in to the urge to become the sort of weak mother she most despised, her heart sang a little. He had responded to her touch unconsciously. On some level he was already hers whether he knew it or not.

With some reluctance Pasiphae drew away. It would not do to be caught here now by anyone who might happen to be awake… and it certainly would not be helpful for Jason himself to wake up and find her hovering over him – no matter how unlikely that seemed to be given how deeply he appeared to be sleeping. She sighed inaudibly. Soon she would claim Jason properly; tomorrow the plans to bring him to her side would come into action. Then the long task of training him would begin; of shaping him into the Prince he was born to be. Jason would see that it was for the best in the end wouldn't he? Actually it did not matter if he did not. She was Queen of Atlantis and his mother. She would not be defied or denied. Jason would require teaching and discipline – especially the latter given what she knew of his antics since arriving in Atlantis. She would not grow soft or weak… she would not! With one final longing glance over her shoulder she moved silently back across the floor towards the hidden door and the passageway, her mind already busily making plans for the morning.

In the darkness Pythagoras let out a long breath. That had been… _interesting_ to say the least. If he had not seen it for himself he would never have believed that Pasiphae could look so human. In all conscience he could not keep this from his friend any longer. Tomorrow, he promised himself, tomorrow he would tell Jason the truth.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Thank you all once more for the truly _lovely_ reviews... I'm still trying to respond to all of them but I promise I _will_ get there! For those of you that I can't respond to personally I'd like to extend special thanks here.

I will admit right here and now that I'm once again playing a bit fast and loose with Greek mythology/history. There was an oracle named Phemonoe but she was the Samian sybil...

Anyway on to the new chapter! Please don't forget to let me know what you think...

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><p>Jason woke up in the pale light of morning and stretched. He had slept well for once – certainly better than he had for the last few days – although once again strange, half-remembered dreams had woken him sometime around dawn. He had lain awake for a while after that mulling things over in his mind until sleep had claimed him once more. Now though he felt surprisingly well rested and relaxed and wondered idly if anyone would mind if he stayed where he was just a little longer. Much as he knew Hercules would want to get home quickly he wondered whether the big man would be willing to wait awhile until he felt a bit more inclined to move. After all hadn't the King suggested that they would need to stay in the Temple for the time being? That he might want to speak to them again this morning? If nothing else it would seem prudent to wait where they were until they could find out whether or not Minos was willing to let them leave.<p>

Jason stretched again but had to bite back a groan as he moved his leg. Damn it that hurt. It felt the way it had when he had first injured it. Staying precisely where he was without moving around too much seemed even more attractive now than it had just a moment ago. They _were_ going to have to go home later though and right at this precise moment Jason wasn't entirely sure how they were going to get there. The way he was feeling he didn't think there was any way he would be able to walk quite that far and the thought of both the steps outside the Temple and the stairs to get up to the house made him shudder. He glanced around looking for something to distract himself from the constant throbbing in his knee.

Pythagoras was still asleep. That wasn't all that surprising really. The young genius was still tiring more easily than usual since his recent illness (Jason resolutely ignored the thought that in actual fact _he_ was tiring a lot more easily lately too) and last night had pushed him to the limits of his endurance. Now he slept peacefully – the sleep of the just – and Jason couldn't help the soft smile that lit his face as he watched his friend. Pythagoras had been so very kind to him from the first moment he had dropped in through the mathematician's window. A fairly large part of him still couldn't work out why his friends seemed to care so much about him but he was glad that they did. If he could repay their many kindnesses in any way he would – and if that meant making sure Pythagoras slept peacefully he would do it.

Jason relaxed back onto the makeshift mattress. Since no one seemed to be hurrying him to move he thought he might actually take advantage for once and stay where he was comfortable. He had half expected Hercules to be waiting for him to wake up to start the "discussion" he had promised in the slavers lair last night and had not really been looking forward to the prospect. Hercules' lectures, while being well meaning, were always embarrassing and often conducted at a volume more suited to one of the war horns on the city walls. It was bad enough when they were in their own home – at least there the only people that might overhear were the neighbours and they were usually out at work in the daytime – but here there were far too many people who would undoubtedly be able to hear Hercules' every word. Jason wasn't entirely sure what right the burly wrestler thought he had to conduct that sort of lecture anyway. After all at least half the time their misadventures were the result of some ridiculous action of Hercules'. Besides which they were all adults anyway. Sometimes Jason felt that the big man forgot that he'd essentially been looking after himself without any outside help or interference for a very long time; that Hercules erroneously thought of both his younger friends as half-grown children in need of protection and guidance. It was the one time that the age gap between the three of them showed.

Where he was now was a mystery, however. A quick glance revealed he was not anywhere nearby. As long as he wasn't off getting drunk somewhere (because Jason really didn't feel he would be able to carry Hercules back from the tavern in his current state and he wouldn't want Pythagoras attempting it on his own) or accepting another ridiculous job on their behalves, it didn't really matter. No doubt he had simply gone in search of breakfast and would return fairly shortly with a bowl full of something or other to fill his stomach. Now that Jason thought about it breakfast sounded good. As though it had been awakened by his thoughts his stomach rumbled as if on cue.

"Hungry?" Hercules' voice rumbled from somewhere behind him.

"A bit," Jason answered.

The burly wrestler came around the side of a pillar with a large steaming bowl in his hands. He placed it down on the floor between the beds and sat down on his own mattress, removing three smaller bowls and some spoons from somewhere inside his tunic. Without comment he slopped some of the contents of the larger bowl into one of the smaller ones and unceremoniously thrust it at Jason, pleased that for once his younger friend seemed to have a healthy appetite. In his opinion Jason could stand to eat a little more regularly than he chose to most of the time. Then he attacked his own portion with gusto.

"This is good," he stated enthusiastically, with his mouth still full.

Jason grinned openly. Hercules was nothing if not predictable at times although to be completely fair in this case he was most definitely accurate. The food he had brought over was extremely good. A noise from the other bed made both friends look up. Pythagoras, apparently woken up by the smell of breakfast, opened his eyes and stretched, blinking sleepily.

"Something smells good," he said.

Hercules handed the young genius a bowl.

"I thought we could all do with something hot this morning," he answered. "The eldest girl from last night's parents gave it to me."

"Amathea," Jason murmured. "Is she alright?"

"What on earth could ever hurt her with you protecting her?" Hercules counted with a sardonic snort. "You're starting to get your own fan club."

Jason blushed and murmured something incoherent which probably contained more than a few curse words.

"Now that you're both awake we can start thinking about getting home," Hercules continued.

Jason frowned.

"We're not in a rush though are we?" he asked.

Hercules immediately looked awkward – that shifty look that he sometimes got when he was about to try to make up an excuse. It instantly put Jason on high alert.

"Well we probably ought to get home," Hercules began. "After all your blessed cat might have knocked over the water jug on the shelf and caused a flood while we were away."

"A flood," Jason answered sarcastically. "From one jug of water."

"It might happen," Hercules protested, pointedly ignoring the incredulous looks from both his friends. "Besides that doctor said that you need to stay off your feet for a full day as soon as we get you home… and the quicker we get home the quicker that day will be over," he added cajolingly, knowing that Jason usually hated to have to stay in bed.

"Actually I don't really mind staying in bed today," Jason murmured. "I'm not sure I'll be able to walk that far right now anyway."

Pythagoras frowned deeply.

"Your knee is painful?" he asked softly.

"It's pretty much throbbing constantly," Jason acknowledged. "It's alright as long as I don't move too much… I guess I was kind of hoping that I wouldn't have to get up for a bit… at least not until it had eased off a bit more."

"May I see?"

"Mmm," Jason agreed. "Sure." He looked at Hercules as Pythagoras made his way over, pulled back the blankets and carefully rolled up his trouser leg. "Didn't Minos say something about us needing to stay here until he'd decided if he had any more questions for us anyway?"

Hercules tried hard not to curse. He had hoped that Jason wouldn't remember that particular little detail and that he would be able to get both his young friends safely home and resting before anyone noticed that they had gone. Not that he expected to be able to evade the King or the city guards for long of course – it was more that he had hoped that he could make any preparations that they needed to flee the city from the comfort of his own house. It would have been easier if they had to make a run for it to go from there rather than having to escape from the Temple under the noses of the guards.

"I'd forgotten that," he said as brightly as he could manage. "We'll have to wait until we get word then. I'll get this fire built up a bit so we can all be warm and you two make yourselves comfortable."

Pythagoras nodded curtly not looking up from his examination of his friend's leg. Jason attempted to smile at the burly wrestler but it dropped away as Pythagoras probed his knee and he bit back a moan. Hercules frowned, trying to decide whether he needed to fetch the doctor once again. It wasn't that he didn't trust Pythagoras – far from it actually – but he was only too aware that the lad was still recovering himself and had no medical supplies with him.

"I was just coming to take a look at that myself," a familiar rusty voice said with vague amusement.

All three friends looked up in surprise to see Cinyras leaning against a pillar with his arms folded and a sardonic smile gracing his alcohol ravaged features. The doctor ambled forwards and crouched down beside Pythagoras peering at Jason with his yellowed rheumy eyes. He grunted in a satisfied manner and reached into his leather satchel pulling out a bottle and a jar. Grabbing a cup from within his bag he poured out a measured amount from the bottle and thrust it at Jason.

"Drink," he instructed firmly. "This tonic is a little stronger than the one I gave you before that you have at home but I think you could probably use it."

Jason nodded and did as he was told. Cinyras turned his attention to the young man's injured knee.

"The swelling is going down nicely as I had hoped," he murmured, "and the bruising from last night is beginning to come out already. This is a good sign… although I would imagine that it still feels very sore and stiff – and will for some days I am afraid. The joint itself will be weak for a while to come… although with luck – and barring you deciding to ignore all advice and running on it before it has had time to heal again – it should be completely healed in a week or two… probably closer to two to be honest. For now though my instructions from last night stand. Once you are at home I want you to keep completely off your feet for a full day with your knee elevated if you can and then use crutches for the following two. Gentle exercises will help – and I _do_ mean _gentle_. Try bending and stretching your leg gently for the next few days to help decrease the stiffness. Also you'll probably find that warm compresses help with the stiffness. You're likely to find that your knee will be swollen and sore by the end of a day so when that happens put your feet up… it _will_ pass and the more you do as you're told and _listen_ to what your body is telling you the quicker that will happen and the quicker you will heal. I have a salve that will help with the bruising and stiffness for now and I will strap your knee up so that you can at least make it home – although you may still need some help… particularly with the stairs I would imagine."

"Thank you," Jason answered quietly.

Cinyras smiled briefly in response and proceeded to carefully and gently massage some of the salve into the young man's knee. Jason frowned at the feeling of gentle heat that spread across his knee. It felt almost like one of those muscle rubs to treat minor aches and pains he'd used back in his old life before he had come to Atlantis and for a moment both the familiarity of the feeling and the strangeness at experiencing it here threw him.

"What is that?" he asked curiously.

"It is a formulation of my own creation," Cinyras answered proudly. "A salve containing mint oils and extracts of wintergreen. I have found it to be effective in treating sprains, stiff joints and aching muscles." He finished spreading the salve on and started to tightly strap his patient's knee. "There," he said tying off the end of the bandage, "you are done… and I don't want to see you again anytime soon!"

"Trust me," Jason answered with a faint laugh, "I don't want you to see me again anytime soon either."

Cinyras laughed and pushed himself wearily to his feet, collecting his satchel as he went. He had been up for most of the night tending to the wounded from the most recent assault on the walls and was now on his way to find a bed to sleep in and some wine to drink. With one final vague wave of his hand he rounded the pillar once more and was lost from sight.

For a while Pythagoras sat on his makeshift mattress lost in thought. He needed to talk to Jason but now that the time had come he had absolutely no idea how to broach the subject. Finally he shook himself. This needed to be done now and no amount of procrastinating was going to help.

"Jason," he said tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"There is something that I need to talk to you about… that _we _need to talk to you about," Pythagoras said gesturing towards Hercules who came over and sat down on his own bed. "It is something I should have told you before but the time never seemed right… something I found out… no I mean something I _worked out_… a while ago… but it was just after all that business with Alektryon and you were not yourself for a while… you were ill… and then you were recovering and there never seemed to be a good time and I did not want to upset you and then I became ill…"

"Pythagoras what are you talking about?" Jason asked in confusion.

"There is a story that you need to be told… that you need to hear… and you need to promise me that you will listen… that you will not interrupt until we are finished."

Jason frowned.

"If it's so important to you then I'll give you my word," he said softly.

"Good," Pythagoras answered. He swallowed hard and looked at Hercules. "Where do I start?" he asked almost pleadingly.

"We were talking the other day about the civil war," Hercules began.

"Between King Minos and King Aeson?" Jason asked, trying to work out why his friends felt that he needed to hear about something that had happened so long ago. Then he realised that he had already broken his promise not to interrupt and blushed, looking at his friends apologetically.

"Yes," Hercules said. "Back before the civil war when Aeson was still heir to the throne he was married to a princess of Colchis… he was married to Pasiphae."

Jason's eyebrows rose in surprise but he made no attempt to interrupt this time.

"They were married for several years before Aeson assumed the throne but the marriage was childless and the Queen apparently unable to bear a child… many believed it to be the judgement of the Gods; a sign of their displeasure with the match. Pasiphae began to involve herself in the running of the city – not something that a queen of Atlantis had done before – but as her power grew there was no-one to refuse her. Then one day a miracle happened and after so many years of barrenness the Queen became pregnant. When the baby was born it was healthy and it was a boy. The rumour was that he was special – touched by the Gods themselves… like his mother. He was no more than a year and a half old when the civil war happened; when Minos usurped the throne and made Pasiphae his queen. Aeson disappeared and no-one really knew what had happened to him and it was said that the Prince had been killed. Apparently one of the guards killed him accidentally, panicked and disposed of the body – fed it to the pigs. Pasiphae returned to her chambers to find the boy's cradle empty and his sheets covered in blood. She disappeared for weeks – it was the only time I've actually felt sorry for her." Hercules paused and sighed. "She came back out for the execution of the guard that had killed her son."

"Recently we have come to believe that the story was not completely true." Pythagoras took over from his older friend. "We have reason to believe that the child survived and was spirited away to safety by his father." He looked solemnly at Jason. "And we have reason to believe that he has returned to Atlantis." The young genius fell silent for a moment.

"So you think that Pasiphae has an adult son running around somewhere then?" Jason asked. He grimaced as a thought occurred to him. "Please tell me that it wasn't Heptarian…" he said.

"No… no," Pythagoras said. He hesitated before plunging on. "Jason we think that the Queen's son is you."

Jason barked an incredulous laugh.

"Now I know you're joking!" he said. As he looked at his friends, eyes drifting from one solemn face to the other, his smile dropped away though. "You are joking aren't you?" he asked a little desperately.

"No," Pythagoras answered softly, "we are not joking. We have both known for a long time that you are different… special. That you could do things that other men could not."

"I'm a bit faster than most people," Jason objected. "That doesn't mean anything."

"You are faster and more agile than any man I have ever seen," Hercules responded, "and you can look at Medusa and not be turned to stone."

"Then there is your necklace," Pythagoras said.

"My necklace?"

"Yes. It bares the symbol of the Oracle and is clearly Atlantean in origin. You told me that your father gave it to you and that the Oracle told you that he came from Atlantis… that you both did, although you were really too young when you left to remember. Jason I have been thinking about this for some time and I believe your necklace is made of gold."

Jason shrugged.

"And?" he asked uncomprehendingly.

"You knew it was gold?" Hercules asked.

"Of course," Jason shrugged again.

"Jason only members of the court and the seriously wealthy wear items made of gold. Forgive me but I have known for a long time that you were not raised with the level of privilege that your necklace implies." Pythagoras paused again. "You also bear the same name as Pasiphae's son; he was named Jason… I always knew that there was something about you; some mystery. But until the business with Alektryon I did not envisage what that might be."

"What are you talking about?" Jason demanded. Pythagoras looked at his friend and winced. Jason had grown increasingly pale as the conversation had gone on and looked incredibly tense, a spark of anger beginning to take fire in his dark eyes.

"After Alektryon attacked you he was arrested," Pythagoras said gently. "We discovered later that it was at the direct instigation of the Queen. She personally brought the matter to Minos' attention and apparently interrogated Alektryon herself. At first I could not work out why but then I started to put the pieces together. I believe that you _are_ her son and that she learned of it shortly before Alektryon's attack."

Jason looked at the floor.

"If this is what you believe why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, trying hard to keep his voice from trembling.

"I couldn't tell you at first," Pythagoras pleaded. "You were so withdrawn… I didn't think you knew where you were… you didn't seem to know what was going on around you… and then you began to get better and it went out of my head… all I was thinking about… all either of us was thinking about… was making sure you became well again."

"You've had two months Pythagoras," Jason pointed out in a dreadfully cold and quiet voice, "and you haven't said a word. You've been keeping it from me. Why tell me now?"

"Hercules believes that the King has learned who you are," Pythagoras said quietly. "If that is the case then he might see you as a threat… he might wish you harm. Even if he does not yet know that you are Pasiphae's son there is the fact that the Queen tended to you last night."

"She put a bandage on my hand that's all," Jason answered distantly.

"It is not normal for the Queen to tend to the injuries of an ordinary citizen," Pythagoras said softly. "In the eyes of the court you are no more than a peasant. Others will have noticed her actions and will be wondering at them. You must see that this is a dangerous situation."

Jason didn't respond. He stared at the floor with growing anger and confusion. Was what his friends were telling him really possible? He desperately wanted to say no but in a sick way it all made horrible sense.

"What are you thinking?" Pythagoras asked gently.

Jason stayed quiet trying to pull his tangled thoughts into some semblance of order.

"Jason?" Pythagoras pressed.

Finally his dark haired friend raised his head. Pythagoras almost gasped at the mixture of confusion, anger, hurt and betrayal he saw warring in Jason's eyes.

"I think you're either mistaken or you're lying," Jason snapped coldly. "Maybe you really believe what you're saying or maybe you're making a joke at my expense. Whichever it is I don't really care right now. Right now I don't really want to be around either one of you."

He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he put weight onto his bad leg.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hercules demanded. "You're supposed to be resting that leg and keeping the weight off your feet."

"I'm going somewhere that you're not," Jason retorted sharply.

"Jason," Pythagoras began again.

"Just leave me alone," Jason said wearily. "Both of you."

He limped off across the Temple hoping that his friends would take the hint and not follow him; knowing that he needed some time to himself to try to get his head around what Pythagoras had been suggesting. On the far side of the great chamber he stopped and lowered himself down to sit against the edge of a giant pillar, tucking himself around the back side out of view of the eyes of the world. How long he sat there wrapped up in his own increasingly dark thoughts he couldn't say. Presently though a voice began to intrude on his consciousness.

"_Jason."_

Jason raised his head and looked around himself. No one was nearby.

"_Jason."_

The voice was light and strangely choral.

"_Jason."_

"Who's there?" Jason murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"_Jason. We've been waiting for you… we've been waiting for so very long. Come to us…"_

"Where are you?" Jason asked.

The voice (or was it voices?) laughed lightly.

"_You know where we are. Come to us now."_

Without even stopping to think what he was doing Jason slowly stood up. Something was pulling at him, directing his footsteps. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard and acknowledged Hercules' voice, calling to him across the floor of the Temple, but he was drawn onwards, beginning to make the slow descent alone into the chamber where the Oracle gave her predictions.

* * *

><p>As soon as Jason hobbled off across the floor of the Temple in search of solitude Hercules took a step forwards, only to be stopped by a thin hand gently touching his arm.<p>

"I know what you're going to say," the big man murmured without turning towards his companion. "We need to give him some space and some time to sort his head out… I just hate to think of him off on his own all upset with no-one to talk to."

Pythagoras sighed.

"I know," he admitted, "and I have to admit that it goes my instincts too… but Jason has made it quite clear that he does not want to be with us right now. You are right that he will need both time and space to come to terms with this and there is precious little of either if you are correct and Minos does indeed know who Jason is. The least we can do is give him some space now." The young genius sighed. "I did not expect him to be so angry at us," he murmured.

Hercules turned and looked at him quizzically.

"Wouldn't you be a bit upset if you found out that Pasiphae was your mother?" he asked. "It's not every day that someone finds out that they're of royal blood, that the King might want to murder them because of that and that their mother is a power-hungry witch."

"I suppose so," Pythagoras answered with another sigh. "This is all my fault though… I should not have kept this from him."

Hercules spun around and grabbed his young friend firmly by the arm.

"Now you listen to me," he growled, "we had no choice. When you first worked this out he wasn't well enough to hear it. Even if he'd understood what you were saying at the time – which I'm not convinced he would – it would only have made things worse."

"Yes but Jason is right. I have had two months since then to explain my theory and I have not."

"Two months where he was still recovering from that breakdown no matter what he says… and I'm still not convinced he's really completely recovered yet… Neither one of us ever wanted to see him in that state again. You have done nothing wrong Pythagoras… you simply wanted to protect your friend."

Pythagoras began to pace.

"Perhaps," he said. "But this was the worst possible time I could have picked to tell him the truth. You know as well as I do that yesterday was a bad day; that Jason was having a dark day and it took both of us to pull him out of it. I have not seen him that upset or anxious since we returned from Meriones' house. With what happened to Cassie last night… with us overhearing the slavers talking about procuring children for the brothels of Athens… it was too close to home for him not to react badly. We both know how traumatic those memories are and how raw they are… bringing up Alektryon was stupid of me… it only made things worse."

"No," Hercules disagreed. "We couldn't wait any longer to tell him. He had to know the truth _before_ Minos makes a move. At least now he can be prepared if we do have to run. I know it's going to be hard on him but in the long run it's better that Jason knows… I'll grant you that the timing could have been better but neither of us were really thinking about it any sooner. I know we talked a little bit when you first came up with the theory but let's be honest everything that happened afterwards largely drove it from both our minds. It's unfortunate that we had to tell him at a time when he was already a bit on edge but these things happen… and as for mentioning Alektryon, I think this was always going to be hard on Jason no matter what either one of us said to try to make it easier. He needed to know the whole truth and to do that he needed the full story… and part of that involved what happened with Alektryon. It's better to get it all out in the open in one go than to have him find out later that we kept bits from him."

Pythagoras stopped pacing and bit his lip. Deep down he knew that Hercules was right. He had had no real option other than to tell Jason the truth now and deal with the consequences, and it was better that he had got straight to the point in the end – but it still didn't stop him feeling guilty for upsetting his friend or worrying about Jason. Pythagoras had always hated to see anyone hurt or upset and it was always worse when it was a friend. To know that he had had a hand in that upset (even if he had had no real choice in the matter) made it doubly difficult for him. More than anything he wished that Jason had stayed to talk; had not disappeared to mull things over on his own. While he understood his friend's need for space and solitude he would still have liked to have had the opportunity to provide the sort of support and comfort that deep down he believed Jason needed – whether his dark haired friend realised it or not.

Hercules watched the young mathematician with a growing frown. Pythagoras was clearly working himself up into a state – feeling guilty for things that really weren't his fault. Well if the burly wrestler couldn't help Jason right now the least he could do was look after Pythagoras. He moved purposefully to the young man's side and slipped an arm firmly around those thin shoulders, catching Pythagoras in a one-armed hug. Pythagoras reacted automatically, leaning into that heavy embrace. Hercules smiled. The boy had always been tactile and responded to physical affection better than almost anyone Hercules had ever met. He squeezed a little tighter.

"Come on," he said. "Jason will be back as soon as he's settled down a bit and in the meantime I've got a set of dice with our names on them."

Without waiting for a reply he began to guide Pythagoras back towards the beds, pushing the lad down until he was sitting on a mattress before sitting down opposite him. He did, however, make sure that he was in full view of the pillar he had seen Jason disappear behind so that he would see the lad as soon as he popped up again.

They had been playing for some time when Hercules glanced up for the umpteenth time, looking towards the far side of the Temple where he knew their friend had secreted himself. He paused and looked again. Jason had clearly moved himself and was limping across the floor. Far from coming to join his friends, however, the lad seemed to be heading towards the stairs that led down to the chamber that the Oracle inhabited. What made Hercules' blood run cold was the utterly blank expression on his friend's face – a level of detachment evident that he had only seen once before and hoped never to have to see again. Oh Gods, what if Jason had retreated back into his own head the way he had two months ago rather than dealing with the issues they had raised in their earlier conversation? It was possible, Hercules thought grimly, it was very possible – although he still prayed that he was wrong. Without a word to Pythagoras he pushed himself to his feet and started forwards, eyes never leaving his other friend still moving slowly across the floor, taking no apparent notice of his surroundings.

"Jason!" the big man called. "Jason, wait!"

If Jason even heard him he gave no indication whatsoever. Hercules scowled and started to move towards his friend.

"Hercules what is wrong?" Pythagoras' worried voice sounded from behind him.

The bulky wrestler glanced behind himself to see the blonde mathematician scrambling to his feet, dice discarded and forgotten between the beds in his hurry. In a trice he had joined his older friend who was now striding purposefully across the Temple.

"What's wrong?" Pythagoras repeated as he drew level.

"Him," Hercules growled curtly with a nod towards Jason.

The young hero was by now nearing the top of the stairs to the Oracle's chamber and was clearly not stopping although his movements were much slower than usual, hampered, his older friend thought, by his damaged knee. Not that he should really be moving around all that much anyway. The doctor had been quite clear that he needed to keep the weight off his leg as much as possible over the next few days and had indicated that he believed Jason would need help to go up and down stairs. Yet there he was about to try to make his way down a flight of steps unaided. That was if he even realised that the steps were there. If Jason were as distracted and detached as he had been before then it was fully possible that he would not even notice the stairs – and if he didn't and ended up stepping straight off the edge? Hercules shuddered to think how much damage he might inadvertently do to himself.

"Jason," Hercules tried again, his worry increasing with every passing second. Mentally he measured the distance across the chamber and realised that there was no way they could reach their friend before he got to the top of the stairs.

For a moment Jason paused, poised at the very top of the stairs, and half turned towards his friends. Then he cocked his head slightly as though he were listening to something and turned back to the opening, his face still devoid of all expression. He set off again, starting to descend the stairs, taking it one step at a time, still limping heavily.

Hercules swore loudly. He was very aware of the curious eyes that were on him and both his friends right now from some of their fellow occupants of the Temple, drawn to them by his repeated loud calls to his friend. He swore again, more quietly this time. The last thing he wanted was to draw unwanted attention to himself and Pythagoras and more importantly to Jason at the moment – especially if the lad were having another breakdown.

"Come on," he growled at Pythagoras and hurried across to the stairs himself with his blonde friend in tow, preparing to follow their other friend down into the darkness and mentally readying himself do battle with whatever demons were plaguing Jason – to draw him back from the edge once more.

* * *

><p>Pasiphae was tired; more tired than she was willing to acknowledge. Her late night foray to check on her son had been a short part of a thoroughly disturbed night; sleep caught in short and uneasy bursts plagued by dreams of the past. The truth was that she was worried. Jason's sleep had clearly been troubled and that was before the news that she was going to break to him today. How would he react to the revelation that she was his mother? Would he welcome his change in status with open arms? Or would he reject it utterly as Minos had suggested might happen? She had been so caught up with the idea of bringing the lad to her side that the thought he might not actually want to be a prince had never really occurred to her before. Yet now it had been raised it festered in the back of her mind.<p>

She had wanted more time than this to prepare Jason. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise she could not shake the feeling that the boy was not ready in any way to deal with what he was to be told. He was young, she firmly reminded herself, and far more likely to be adaptable than someone who was older and more set in their ways. Still this was a situation that would require careful management. Much as it galled her to ask someone she had come to regard as an enemy for anything, she knew that she need the advice of the Oracle. The Seer had clearly formed a bond with Jason and Pasiphae now needed to exploit that bond for the benefit of Atlantis – and of course for her own ends as well.

Her visit to the Oracle was well timed. It was still early in the day – long before most of the population would arrive with tributes to request an audience with the Prophetess – but not so early as to attract attention from anyone who might happen to be awake. And if her feet took her on a slightly circuitous route to the Oracular chamber, passing on the opposite side of the great chamber… well she was merely making an offering at the smaller shrine of Ares, God of war, in the hope that he might protect the city in the coming days. The fact that her journey took her near where a young man with dark curls slept had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Jason, she noticed, was still sleeping peacefully, as was one of his friends – the skinny blonde one whose name she couldn't recall. Did his name really matter anyway? He was a peasant, nothing more, and would never be an acceptable companion for a royal prince. Jason could soon be discouraged from acknowledging his unfortunate connections once he had been convinced to accept his status, of that she was certain. His so called friends would prove no problem she was sure – they clearly understood the proprieties of social status far better than her son did and would easily be persuaded to back away.

Pasiphae cast another sidelong longing glance at the boy as she slid past. Where was his other friend though? Not in his bed apparently. Another quick look around revealed to her that he was at a cooking fire some distance away obtaining a large bowl of food. The Queen sneered to herself. A fat man could always be guaranteed to think with his stomach it seemed. She filed the information away for future use. Perhaps the offer of a regular supply of food would persuade the man to stay away from Jason when the time came. She would bribe him if she must to make sure that he had no hold over her son; to make sure that her beautiful, strong boy could never be blackmailed or compromised by his past.

But it was not Jason's past that concerned the Queen now, it was his present and his future. And to ensure that his future – that _their_ future – was everything she hoped it would be she needed the help of the Oracle. With a sigh and one last furtive, sidelong glance at her son she hurried over to make her prayers at Ares' shrine before turning her feet and her mind towards the cavern below the Temple where the Oracle delivered her pronouncements.

The room was as badly lit as ever, she noticed as she descended the stairs. Did the Oracle somehow believe that it made her words more mystical if they were delivered in gloom? As far as Pasiphae could see all that the lack of light gave anyone was strained eyes from trying to see properly in the semi-darkness. But then she supposed she had always been more cynical about the abilities of the Prophetess than most people. Oh she knew that the Oracle's gift of foresight was real – better than most perhaps – but she was also only too aware that the woman only said what she wanted to say… that she saw far more than she ever revealed. Pasiphae sometimes wondered if the Oracle delighted in the power she held over other people. It was hard to tell – she had always been a strange woman.

At the scrying bowl in the centre of the cavern, near a crack in the floor which spewed forth the vapours that helped the Oracle to focus on her visions, the Seer knelt muttering ritual prayers over the blood stained water. As Pasiphae approached she raised her head, although she did not bother to turn around.

"I have been expecting you," she said softly.

"Really." Pasiphae could not help the sarcasm that crept into her tone.

The Oracle turned and smiled in her infuriatingly superior manner.

"You wish to know how best to approach Jason; how to break the news of his parentage without causing him to reject you utterly; and you wish for my help; my guidance."

"It is in both our interests that you help me," Pasiphae answered coldly. "If Jason chooses to reject his heritage then Minos will have no option but to banish him and I do not think that that would suit your purposes any more than it would suit mine."

"You believe that I have… plans for Jason?"

"I believe that you would lie and manipulate the truth to achieve what you desire," Pasiphae snorted.

"You judge me by your own standards," The Oracle answered coldly.

"I judge you as I see you. Your visions have long controlled the actions of this city. It is… convenient that they always tie in so closely with your own beliefs."

"I see only that which the Gods permit me to see."

"I know," Pasiphae snapped. "But you do not tell all that you see… you deliberately mislead people and make them believe what you want them to. You have seen Jason's future… although you will not tell me what it might hold… and I do not doubt that you will not hesitate to use him to achieve the future you desire."

"Everything I have done I have done to protect him."

"Protect him?" Pasiphae snorted an incredulous laugh. "Protect him from what? From me? He would have needed no protection from me… I would have loved him… protected him… but you ensured that I did not have that chance."

"I did what I believed to be best."

"For Jason or for you?"

"For Atlantis," the Oracle bit back. "But I _have_ tried to protect Jason from all those who would do him harm.

"You believed I meant him harm," Pasiphae stated.

"I believe your hunger for power would have overridden all other considerations." The Oracle stared off into space. "The bloodshed and suffering would have been unimaginable."

"He is my son," Pasiphae answered hoarsely. "I would not have harmed him, Phemonoe."

The Oracle started.

"It is many years since I have heard that name uttered," she murmured.

"And yet it _is_ your name is it not?"

"It was once. I gave it up when I gave up my life to Poseidon," the Oracle looked into the distance. "I knew the path I chose would be a hard one; that I would have to renounce my past – my family. But a life spent in service of the Gods brings its own rewards." She looked sharply at Pasiphae. "Few there are indeed who would remember the name Phemonoe much less know that it once belonged to me."

"You forget that I have known you longer than most." Pasiphae answered.

"I do not forget the past we shared," the Oracle said softly. "But our paths have long since diverged."

"We were not so different once," Pasiphae murmured. "And perhaps we are still not as different as you would like to believe."

"I do not seek power."

"Yet you wield more than any queen," Pasiphae retorted. "This sparring gets us nowhere however. I came here seeking the knowledge of how best to approach my son. You appear to have a… _bond_ with him. I would ask for your advice."

"And how does the King feel about this?" the Oracle asked sharply.

"Surely you already know the answer to that," Pasiphae said.

"I have told you on many occasions that I can only see that which I am permitted to see," The Oracle retorted.

"The King is worried," a deep voice boomed from the stairs. "But I have given my word that the boy will suffer no harm at my hand." Minos crossed the floor to join his wife. "He will have much to learn and I would see him do it for the sake of the Queen but first he must accept his place in the world. In this we ask for your assistance. For the sake of Atlantis I would have Jason acknowledge who he is."

"Such news will not be easy for him to hear," the Oracle murmured. "Jason is a young man who does not give his trust easily… it must be earned. He sees good in everyone but does not believe that he himself is worthy of other's time and kindness. No matter what he must remain in Atlantis, however. He is our hope for the future."

"What do you mean?" Minos asked sharply.

"Jason has a great destiny ahead of him," the Oracle answered. "But he must be willing to accept it and embrace it."

"And what is his destiny?" Pasiphae demanded. "What do you see in his future?"

The Oracle half-smiled.

"I told you once before that it is not Jason's future that you should concern yourself with," she said. "It is your own."

"I have a right to know," Pasiphae snapped. "I am his mother."

"They were telling the truth then," a new voice intruded, its tone numb.

The three occupants of the chamber span around to see the object of their discussion poised at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide and wild and arms hugged almost desperately around his middle.

"My friends said that you were my mother and I couldn't quite bring myself to believe them," Jason continued quietly.

Pasiphae's heart clenched. The boy looked and sounded so desperately young and innocent standing in the half-light. His anxiety was almost palpable and he looked so very lost – hurt and alone. Before she could say a word, however – before she could even make a move – the Oracle had started across the room, her hands outstretched beseechingly and her face softened by a warm smile. The Queen ground her teeth. It wasn't the Oracle's place to be comforting Jason but her own position in her son's life had long since been stolen from her. She was therefore gratified to see the young man pull back away from the Seer, his eyes hardening with anger.

"Did you know?" he demanded, his voice frighteningly soft; his words dropping like shards of ice. "Did you know that she was my mother?"

"I did know," the Oracle admitted. "But I did not want to see you come to harm."

"You lied to me then."

"I have only ever sort to protect you; to guide you," the Oracle answered.

"You lied to me from the moment that you met me yet you claim to have tried to help me?" Jason retorted, his voice breaking. "I stood here and asked you if you knew who my mother was. I asked you more than once… and you kept on lying to me… telling me that you did not have the answers I needed… you had no right."

"There were things that it was better if you did not know," the Oracle said quietly, turning away from him.

Jason grabbed her wrist hard, forcing her to turn back around and face him. Even from across the chamber Pasiphae could see his fingers digging into the woman's arm and felt Minos stiffen beside her; one did not treat the Oracle of Poseidon in this manner.

"You don't get to make that sort of decision for me," Jason said. "All my life I dreamed of having a family; of having parents like everyone else… but this is twisted… a sick fantasy. And you're right at the centre of it; right at the centre of all the lies."

The Oracle gently released her arm from the young man's grasp and brought a hand up to caress the side of his face gently. Jason shied away from her like a startled horse and she let the hand drop almost helplessly. A movement on the stairs caught Pasiphae's eye and she glanced up with a frown to see Jason's two friends descending quietly and carefully, both of their faces a picture of concern.

"Answer me one question," Jason said to the Oracle. "Has everyone in my life been lying to me? God you all must have laughed at me… too stupid to see the truth."

"No-one was laughing," Hercules rumbled softly, gratified to see Jason glance at him briefly. "It was never funny… and you were never stupid either. You had no way of knowing what the truth was. None of us did… and when we worked out the truth you were in no position to hear it – you simply weren't well enough – and we were more concerned with your wellbeing. At the end of the day it never mattered to me and him," he gestured at Pythagoras who was nodding his agreement, "_who_ your parents were… we were more interested in _you_… and we knew who you were… and like we've said before we're a family no matter what."

By this time he had managed to make his way to the bottom of the stairs and had rested a gentle hand on the back of Jason's neck. The young man looked back at him with wide, despairing eyes and Hercules felt his heart break a little for the pain and turmoil that his friend was being put through.

A pointed clearing of the throat made them turn back to face the room. Hercules felt Jason tense even more and began to rub gentle, comforting circles on the back of the lad's neck. Minos was watching them with an eyebrow raised.

"Now that we all know who everyone is I believe there are things we must discuss," he said firmly.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N _So many_ lovely reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you... Can you tell I was just a bit excited to see them all?

So I think this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written... I hope that doesn't put anyone off :-)

Don't forget to let me know what you think...

* * *

><p>Hercules looked at the King with suspicious eyes. Without a second thought he slowly moved himself until he was standing half in front of Jason, preparing himself to defend his young friend to the last if necessary even though he was unarmed. On the other side of the dark haired lad Pythagoras moved into place in support of his friends. Of course Hercules acknowledged the fact that if Minos decided to call for his guards – his <em>armed<em> guards – there would be very little any of them could do. Still if he was going to go down then he would go down fighting; defending his friends to the last.

In the centre of the chamber Minos' eyes narrowed as he watched the three men. There was something almost amusing in the way that Jason's two friends prepared to defend him in spite of their obvious lack of weaponry. Just how long did they think they would last against armed soldiers if it really came down to it? And yet there was also something both heart-warming and breath-taking about their complete loyalty to one another. Had he ever engendered such loyalty in another person? He had witnessed it before with these three of course; had heard the rumours that Jason had entered the labyrinth and faced the Minotaur on behalf of one of his friends (it was the skinny one who had actually drawn the black stone if the rumours were correct) and that the other two had been caught trying to break him free and sent in with him; had seen the older man speak up for Jason at his trial in spite of his own fear (and really with hindsight it had been wrong of him to sentence the other two along with the outspoken young man simply for being his friends – his only excuse was that he had been irritated at the time) and had watched as they had leapt the bulls together – supporting each other in any way they could. Such loyalty – such absolute faith in one another – could not be bought and the King of Atlantis found himself almost envious. He stepped forwards with his palms raised in a gesture of peace.

"I mean you no harm," he stated, "but as I said we have much to discuss and precious little time to do it. This has come as a shock to us all but there are… implications that we must consider." He looked straight at Jason. "Know now though that although there will be certain…expectations… placed upon you I would still have you made welcome and comfortable within my house – for your mother's sake if nothing else. I give you my word that you have nothing to fear from me."

Hercules exchanged a worried glance with Pythagoras. Was the King being honest? He seemed sincere enough but that might change the instant he saw Jason as a threat. Then there was Jason himself. How would he react to everything that was going on? The big man could hear his young friend's breath rasping, coming in short, anxious bursts, and could feel the tension growing in the lad. Hercules was worried that after his outburst at the Oracle Jason was beginning to shut down; to disappear inside his own head again. What he wanted more than anything right now was to get Jason to somewhere quiet and safe where he could be encouraged to let everything out rather than bottle it all up inside as seemed likely if he were to be forced to stay here in the public eye.

"I am sure that you must have many questions and there are many plans that must be discussed for the future," Minos continued. "For now there is a situation of vital importance that we must consider. It relates to the current siege and the future of Atlantis; to the very peace treaty that the Amphigeneians have breached. Come, this matter must be discussed in private. You will return to the Palace with us to hear what I have to say."

Jason didn't answer. His mind was in turmoil. Who should he trust? Everyone it seemed had been lying to him in one way or another, although ironically the person who had apparently been the most honest with him was the one person that everyone had been telling him he should most fear – Minos. Even his friends had kept this from him – one more item to add to the long list of things they should have told him but hadn't. They, at least, had been trying to act in his best interests, however – of that he had no doubt. No matter how misguided they had been both Pythagoras and Hercules had been acting out of love; had been trying to protect him; and he knew that he still trusted them both implicitly no matter what. It didn't mean that he wasn't still angry at them, however. No matter how good their intentions he was still hurt by their actions; stung by their lies of omission. Of all the revelations of the morning that was what had hit him the most – the fact that his friends had not trusted that he was strong enough to cope; had known how much it would have meant to him to find out more about his own family and had still chosen to keep their knowledge to themselves. It tore his defences apart; left him raw and open to attack. Right now he would really like to find a quiet bolt hole somewhere where he could just disappear from the eyes of the world for a while to build his walls back up but even that seemed to be impossible given Minos' declaration that he was to return to the Palace with the King and Queen.

The Palace. What did they expect him to do at the Palace? What did they want of him? His breathing quickened even further as the walls of the cavern seemed to loom up around him, closing in and threatening to suffocate him. Would his friends be allowed to come as well? Somehow he doubted that either the King or Queen would be happy with that. What exactly would happen if he refused to go? Would they have him brought there in chains? Jason was in no doubt that he was not actually going to be given any choice in the matter. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, nails biting hard into the palms of his hands, the left one flaring into pain as they irritated the bound wound – using the sensation to try to ground himself; to fight away the unreasoning waves of panic. They were going to take all choice away from him; were going to leave him with no control whatsoever over his own life; would rob him of his independence. He couldn't do this; couldn't be what they wanted him to be; couldn't be another Heptarian. He was bound to mess up like he always did. Sooner or later he was going to do something or say something wrong and then what would they do? Jason could feel his pulse starting to race as his breath came in short, sharp gasps, his chest tightening painfully and blood pounding in his ears. The air felt thick and heavy and he couldn't seem to get enough oxygen as his vision closed in and waves of dizziness rocked him.

He was vaguely aware of caring hands easing him down to sit on the stairs as the pain in his chest grew. A callused but gentle hand shoved his head firmly down between his legs while the other hand rubbed up and down his spine and a gruff voice instructed him to take deep breaths. In all honesty Jason tried – he really did – but the air felt too thick and his breath rattled in his throat as his mind scrabbled for some purchase to calm himself down. He didn't have time for this now; needed desperately to focus. A smooth hand caught his and unclenched his tightly furled fingers, pressing it gently against a thin chest, the breastbone protruding far too much to be described as truly healthy, and the quiet and calm voice of Pythagoras murmured softly in his ear.

"It's alright," Pythagoras murmured. "It's all going to be alright. Just keep breathing with me. Listen to my voice and breathe. Easy Jason. That's it. Breathe with me."

Across the floor Minos watched the situation unfold ahead of him with growing confusion and concern. It was clear that his stepson had been driven into a panic attack but he really couldn't see how it had happened. Surely what he was suggesting – a discussion in private in the comfort of the Palace rather than in a dark, uncomfortable cavern where there was always the chance that they could be overheard – wasn't really all _that_ bad was it? He mentally reviewed what he had said and could find nothing threatening in either his words or tone. Perhaps then it was something else; perhaps Jason was simply of a nervous disposition. Yet he had stood in front of the King on more than one occasion with his head unbowed under circumstances that would have had other men cowering. Even at his own trial he had not begged for mercy – his older friend had ended up trying to do that on his behalf. Then there was the situation last night too. The boy had shown courage once again in rescuing those children and hadn't Dion mentioned something about him being injured? That last thought came to Minos with a guilty little start. He hadn't even thought about the fact that the lad was apparently injured until now. Pain had a way of making the strongest man act out of character so perhaps that was the reason for Jason's sudden slide into panic. The boy was clearly in shock from the news he had been given, was emotionally overwrought, and when you added a level of pain and suffering into the mix it could well have pushed him too far. Still the King would need to make enquiries. If it were to prove that this was not the case and that Jason was in fact somehow mentally deficient then it could throw all of their plans into disarray. At that point he would need to decide what the kindest option for the boy would actually be.

At Minos' side Pasiphae stiffened. The King could almost feel her longing to go to her son; to provide comfort for the boy. He knew that it was only her granite hard reserve, honed by years spent in the cut-throat world of the nobility and the political jungle that was the Atlantian court, that held her in place. She clearly resented the fact that it was Jason's friends who were with him now; clearly believed that they were usurping her place. Yet all the King's paternal instincts told him that what the young man needed most right now was the familiarity of his friends. He was unsettled, upset, hurt and angry and required some form of stability in order to pull himself back together. Without a second thought Minos reached out and placed a restraining hand on his wife's arm. Pasiphae turned to face him and for a moment he was struck by the ferocity in her eyes.

"He does not know you my love," he murmured. "It would only make matters worse for you to try to go to him now. Jason is confused and upset. Allow his friends to do their work now – to calm him – and then we may speak with him."

"He is _my_ son," Pasiphae hissed angrily.

"Yes but at present you do not know one another; do not understand one another. Any relationship that you have will need time to form. Today we may take the first steps along that road, but Jason needs to be ready to listen. The situation we find ourselves in means that we cannot truly give him the time he needs to adjust and adapt but it seems we must at least give him these few minutes to regain control of himself," Minos hesitated. "We must make enquiries as to his mental faculties, however. This sudden attack of panic might indicate a far deeper affliction. We cannot afford to show any weakness by acknowledging a family member who is not completely sane."

For a moment Minos saw anguish flare in Pasiphae's eyes. Then they hardened and she glared at him ferociously once more.

"You do not know that this is true," she snapped.

"No," Minos agreed, "but it would seem prudent to make enquiries given the speed of this attack. We must know if your son is prone to bouts of emotional violence before we make any decisions about the future." He glanced across the chamber and half-smiled. "But see, he is already returning to himself. Whatever has caused that disturbance in his equilibrium he is recovering rapidly."

Jason forced his head up and his eyes open – although he couldn't actually recall when he had closed them – as Pythagoras' gentle voice broke through the haze in his mind. The unreasoning panic – the feeling that the walls were closing in – had receded and the air felt thinner again; felt breathable. In front of him Pythagoras sat back on his heels and looked long and hard at his friend, his blue eyes still mirroring his concern.

"Sorry," Jason muttered.

"Are you feeling better now?" the young genius asked quietly.

"Yeah. Everything's just…" Jason shook his head helplessly. "I don't know what to think anymore… I mean it just feels like everything I thought I knew was a lie… everything I knew about myself… it's just a bit overwhelming."

Pythagoras sighed.

"I cannot pretend to know how you are feeling right now," he admitted. "If it were me I would probably be hiding under a table somewhere drawing triangles repetitively. But Jason there are so many new doors that could open for you now if you were to grasp the opportunity. Know that whatever happens… whatever you decide to do… I will support you."

He was rewarded by a faint smile, a shadow of Jason's normal grin, but still gratifying nevertheless under the circumstances, and moved to sit alongside his friend comfortably, slipping a thin arm around muscular shoulders automatically.

"I still don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you," Jason murmured softly. He looked up at the King and Queen and sighed. "I suppose I'd better go and meet them properly… somehow I don't think I made the best impression."

"Maybe it won't be as bad as you think," Pythagoras said comfortingly.

"You are kidding aren't you?" Jason asked incredulously. "I just had a complete meltdown in front of the King and Queen."

"Yes, but if it helps you also had a complete meltdown in front of your mother and stepfather… they might just be worried enough that it will override the King and Queen part."

Jason groaned.

"I think that actually makes it worse," he said. "Besides why would they be worried? They don't even know me."

"Not yet," Pythagoras agreed, "but maybe you should give them the chance to… You said you have longed for a family your whole life. Perhaps this is the chance to have one."

"I think I've already got one," Jason murmured nudging Pythagoras with his shoulder.

"And that will not change," the mathematician confirmed firmly, "but this is an opportunity that many would dream of. All it will truly mean is that your family has increased a little in size."

As the two boys chatted softly – Pythagoras continuing to settle his friend's nerves down with his calm and comforting words, whether Jason realised it or not – Hercules looked up to see the King watching him, his face unreadable. With one swift imperious gesture he motioned for the burly wrestler to join him in the centre of the room. Hercules gulped but complied, knowing that his young friends were safe in each other's company.

"I have questions for you," the King stated.

Hercules gulped again.

"Yes My Lord," he said, bowing his head deferentially.

"The boy… Jason… what do you know of his background? Where was he raised?"

"He arrived in the city some months ago… nearly a year now, My Lord," Hercules began. "I don't exactly know _where_ he was raised but it was far from here I'm sure. Pythagoras, my other friend, thinks that Jason was not raised anywhere in the Aegean… was not raised in Greece at all… I mean he speaks the language like a native… which I guess in a way he is… and reads and writes as well as Pythagoras does… but he's not Greek."

"And what of his father?" Minos asked. "What of the people who raised him? Do you know who they were? The boy must have told you something."

Hercules cast a look across at the two boys and offered up a brief unspoken prayer to the Gods that Jason would forgive him for telling the King what he knew.

"He is an orphan My Lord," he said. "Jason told us that his father disappeared when he was very young… only five… and that he came to Atlantis in search of him."

"Did he find him?" Minos demanded, a new threat suddenly coming into his mind.

"The Oracle told Jason that his father was dead, Your Majesty," Hercules said. "Where Jason grew up everyone believed that his father was already dead but no-one could explain it to him or give him any details so he came looking for answers himself." He hesitated for a moment before plunging on. "Jason had no-one to leave behind when he came here. He told us that he was raised in a place where they sent unwanted children and was occasionally farmed out to other families… people who were given money to look after him… he has known little in the way of a family life and love… and I won't see him hurt like that again."

Minos raised an eyebrow at Hercules' audacity. It beggared belief that a peasant would address him in this manner… and yet he found himself admiring the man's loyalty to his friend. Alongside him Pasiphae had listened to the big man's words with growing bitterness. She alone knew the secret of her former husband's survival. It was one thing to have stolen her son away; to have snatched him from his cradle and removed him from her life; to have denied her the chance of watching him grow – of being his mother. It was something else again to learn that the man had then abandoned the child. What possible excuse could Aeson _ever_ have for his actions? For all she had despised her former husband – had hated him with renewed passion ever since she had learned of his treachery in stealing away her only child – she had at least comforted herself with the fact that Jason would have grown up with a doting father who would have seen to his every need. To learn now that Aeson had denied the boy even that much burned.

"Very well," Minos murmured. "No doubt the boy will reveal more of his… background and education as he becomes used to his situation. Now I must turn my mind to other things. The… attack… he just suffered, is he prone to them?"

"I'm not sure what you mean My Lord," Hercules said.

"Then let me speak plainly," Minos responded. "Is Jason disturbed in his mind? Does he suffer from a deeper affliction of which this is only a symptom?"

"No," Hercules retorted sharply. "Jason's as sane as you are… My Lord," he added as an afterthought. "He was ill a couple of months ago now and it's taken him a bit of time to get back to normal. Most of the time he's fine but now and then he just gets a bit… well… sad. When it happens he disappears into his own head and shuts himself off. We've learned how to head that off before it happens and usually it works. He's still getting better really no matter how much he tries to convince everyone that he's fine. Jason's tough though and he _is_ getting there. It won't be too long before he's completely better; before we can put it all in the past. But right now he hasn't been sleeping all that well for the last few days and he's in pain from that knee… and what happened last night dredged up some bad memories. Then with everything he's been told today… I just think it all got a bit much. He'll be fine now, you'll see."

Minos nodded slowly and let out a relieved sigh.

"Good," he said shortly. His eyes narrowed suddenly and he looked acutely at Hercules. "Last night General Dion alluded to the fact that the boy was injured and now you refer to him being in pain. In what way is he harmed?"

"Jason badly twisted his knee and cracked three ribs falling down stairs last week, Your Majesty," Hercules answered, his tone once more deferential. "He was pretty knocked about afterwards. It was bad enough to confine him to bed for a few days and to put him onto crutches after that. His knee has only partially healed and is still pretty painful… and running around the city chasing and fighting slavers has irritated the injury. I had a doctor check him over last night and again this morning and he strapped Jason's knee back up. He also said that he wanted Jason to keep the weight off his feet for a full day as soon as we were home – to stay in bed for a day with his knee propped up – and to go back onto crutches for the next couple of days after that. At the very least he should be sitting down with his feet up."

"Then before anything else we must see to the lad's comfort," Minos murmured. "This situation… this news… has clearly upset the boy. When you add to that the pain of an injury…" he trailed off but looked sharply at Hercules. "Jason will require some measure of familiarity around him as we discuss the future," he said. "It is unfortunate that Anaxandros' actions mean that we cannot give him time to adjust. You and your other friend will accompany him when we go to the Palace." His tone brooked no argument.

Hercules nearly breathed a sigh of relief. There had been no way he was willing send Jason into the lion's den so to speak without accompanying him – it would have been like sending a lamb to the slaughter given the lad's naivety – but he hadn't been able to come up with a single reason that the King would have been likely to accept to keep himself at his friend's side. Now Minos had taken the problem out of his hands and had decided that it would be in everyone's interests if they all went to the Palace together.

"Of course, My Lord," the burly wrestler responded.

"Very well," Minos said. "We will return to the Palace as soon as Jason is ready to move."

Hercules glanced across at the Queen as he returned to his friends at the foot of the stairs. Pasiphae, he couldn't help thinking, looked like she had swallowed a wasp. He sighed, a sinking feeling gripping his stomach. He was suddenly, dreadfully certain that things were about to get complicated; that life was about to get very interesting indeed.

* * *

><p>The room Pythagoras and his friends had been led to was opulent but not overly large or imposing. Rather than being one of the reception rooms where visiting dignitaries were customarily received Pythagoras surmised that this was a family room – far more intimate than the formal rooms and designed for the comfort of the royal family. He took it as a good sign that they had been brought here. Minos it appeared wished to at least make an attempt to put them all at ease. Or perhaps he should say that the King was making an attempt to put <em>Jason<em> at ease since he hardly thought his own or Hercules' feelings actually mattered all that much. The room was light and airy but warm – braziers in two of the corners radiating a glowing heat that made the room feel almost cosy. There were couches dotted about, richly upholstered and cushioned, and a recessed alcove was given over to a small shrine to one of the household gods. Near the couches were low tables, inlaid with precious woods, marble, mother-of-pearl and ivory imported across vast distances or given as gifts from visiting royalty. Pythagoras stooped to examine a particularly fine example, decorated with an image of birth of Aphrodite, showing the beauteous Goddess emerging from the waves. He found that he could not even name half of the woods used in the border and the central image, created from a mixture of different coloured marbles, ivory and mother-of-pearl, was simply exquisite.

"What are you doing?" Hercules' gruff voice came from somewhere behind him.

"Look at the workmanship in this," Pythagoras murmured. "The hours that must have been spent creating the central motif… it is truly amazing."

He turned to see Hercules staring at him sceptically and mentally sighed. He really should have remembered that his older friend had no appreciation for art whatsoever.

"Just as long as you don't break anything," Hercules responded.

Pythagoras squeaked in indignation but nevertheless moved to sit down on one of the couches. Bowls of fruit and rich pastries had been laid out on some of the tables along with several jugs of water and wine. Hercules drained a goblet noisily, the delicate cup looking out of place in his large hand, and tucked into another pastry, crumbs dropping indiscriminately down the front of his tunic. Pythagoras shuddered slightly, dreading the impression that the burly wrestler would make. Hercules followed his gaze and shrugged, slightly abashed at Pythagoras' disapproving look, brushing himself off and at least making an attempt to look presentable.

After they had left the Oracular chamber the three men had stopped briefly at the spot where they had spent the night before in order to collect Jason's breastplate and his and Hercules' swords. While it seemed unlikely that they would use them none of them were completely happy with the idea of abandoning them in the Temple. Plus it had had the added advantage of giving Jason a little more time to collect himself before he had to face whatever lay ahead.

The short journey between the Temple and the Palace had been awkward. Jason had not seemed inclined to chat and the other two had not really known what to say to him under the circumstances. Nothing any of them could say could really make this situation any better. The long flight of steps leading down from the Temple and the equally long flight leading up to the Palace on the other side of the square had been difficult. Cinyras had been proved correct in his estimation that Jason would need help. By the time they had entered the main doors of the Palace and been ushered in to the cavernous entrance hall by the waiting servants the young man had been leaning heavily on Hercules' broad shoulder and panting slightly with effort. Being Jason he had straightened as soon as he felt outside eyes on him of course and had followed the silent and apparently disapproving servant through the largely deserted corridors to this room with his head held high and his back straight. Pythagoras had never quite worked out just _how_ his friend managed to shake things off and appear normal to the outside world no matter what was going on inside. You would have to know Jason very well indeed to realise that anything was wrong half of the time – he was simply too good at concealing both physical injuries and emotional turmoil alike.

At the door of the room the servant had left them with the news that the King had instructed that they were to make themselves comfortable inside. A bell had been left so that they could summon a servant if there was anything that they required but since then they had been left alone. Once inside the room Jason had almost seemed to wilt, allowing his friends to see what was kept from the world; his pain and upset. Away from prying eyes the strong, confident, apparently untroubled young man who had followed the servant through the halls vanished and he docilely allowed Hercules to help him to a couch, settling back onto it thoughtfully.

The burly wrestler had been in full overbearing paternal mode – sometimes Pythagoras thought that he acted in much the way he imagined a mother bear would when protecting her cubs. He had insisted on Jason swinging his legs up to half lie on the couch – although he had allowed the young man to remove his shoes first after Jason had somewhat anxiously suggested his sandals were far too dusty to be put on royal furniture – and had then grabbed some of the extra cushions from another couch to elevate his younger friend's knee. It was probably a good thing, Pythagoras decided, that Jason hadn't stubbornly dug his heels in and refused his older friend's ministrations as he was want to do on occasion. In fact Jason had done everything that Hercules had asked with barely a murmur; had lapsed into silent thought, his eyes drifting around the room curiously from time to time.

"Are you sure you are alright?" the young genius asked his dark haired friend. Jason had been quiet for far too long for either of his friends' comfort.

Jason blinked, pulled out of his thoughts. Everything was so messed up. All through his childhood he'd dreamed of discovering that his parents weren't dead; fantasised about finding his mother; dreamed of being part of a real family who would love and want him no matter what. In none of his fantasies, however, had his mother been a power-hungry, homicidal witch, nor had he ever imagined a stepfather who was a King and more than slightly paranoid to boot. It was like someone was playing a monumental joke on him – taking all his childhood fantasies and twisting them into something dark and unrecognisable. Not for the first time it felt like the whole world was falling down around him; like someone was dumping the weight of it on his shoulders.

But Pythagoras had suggested that maybe this was an opportunity; that maybe these people would accept him for who he was – as his friends had done so many months before – and Pasiphae had clearly been trying to be kind as she had bandaged his hand. Perhaps he owed it to her to give her a chance – if not a chance to be his mother then at least a chance to tell him her side of the story. And who knew what might grow from there? Perhaps it would not be so bad to learn about her; to learn about his family. But what if she wanted a price that he was not willing to pay? What if she wanted him to change who he was? To become a second Heptarian ready to dance to her tune? He certainly wasn't going to do that! Still it wouldn't hurt to wait and see what she had planned… and if they really were irreconcilable? Well that was a bridge he would have to cross when he came to it.

It didn't really help matters much that his head was still full of strange images left over from his dreams of the last two nights. Some of which seemed to have come true during their rescue of the children. Then there was the other thing that had happened last night – the feelings that had drawn him towards the right warehouse and later on had led him to the girls and helped them all to escape. He would like to write it off as coincidence; as his imagination going into overdrive. But that wasn't what it felt like. He had _seen_ something different on the door from the street, had _felt_ something pulling him onwards and had seen and felt that golden glow drawing him on towards their eventual escape. It had happened before back when he was a child, but then his Dad had told him that he had an overactive imagination and that he shouldn't say anything to anyone. Jason could still vaguely remember his Dad sitting him down one night and explaining that since he was becoming a big boy he needed to try to fit in with everyone else a bit more; to stop wandering off into flights of fancy and telling anyone who'd listen about his dreams; about the places and people in his head. He had always trusted his Dad implicitly; had always believed that his memories of the man were true; that his Dad had never been anything other than honest with him. Now he found out that even that had been a lie – that his Dad had had some rather large secrets that he had deliberately kept from his young son. Not least of which was the fact that Jason's mother had clearly _not_ died shortly after his birth as he had always been led to believe. So what else might his father have been keeping from him? Could the images he had seen in his sleep and the feelings that had pulled him onwards last night have actually been real? They had certainly felt real – and that scared him more than anything.

Then there had been those weird voices that he had heard back in the Temple. Part of Jason was worried that they were going to turn out to be similar to the auditory hallucinations he had had during the most acute phase of his breakdown two months earlier. But they had felt so very different to that. Then the voices had come from within his own head; had taken on the remembered tones of people from his past as his mind had attacked itself. This time there had been no attack. These voices did not feel like part of his psyche and certainly did not correspond to anything from his memories; they had felt external and had not tried to belittle or threaten him in any way. They had simply claimed to want to meet him and had drawn him down into the Oracle's chamber… just at the right time to encounter his mother and stepfather and prove the truth of Pythagoras' earlier words. So what exactly had they been? As he had prepared to leave the cavern to come here for the promised meeting with Minos they had spoken to him one last time, assuring him that they would wait for him; that he must not tell anyone about them; that they would be there waiting to meet him when he could get away but that for now he should go with the King. A brief glance at his friends had quickly made him realise that they could not hear the voices themselves and he had refrained from telling them at least in part because he was worried that they might think he had lost the plot again. Perhaps he had. Who knew? Now though Pythagoras was watching him worriedly, expecting an answer to his earlier question. Jason pulled himself together and attempted a smile.

"Do not tell me you are fine," Pythagoras added before he could answer, "when I can see that you are not."

"No," Jason answered. "I'm not fine… but you were right before… I need to give them a chance. All I can do is listen to what Minos has to say and then we'll have to see where we go from there." He looked down at his hands. "For all I used to pretend that maybe my mother wasn't dead when I was a child I never really expected it to happen… I think I owe it to her to at least hear her out."

Hercules frowned. The innocence and naivety of both his young friends never failed to astound him. Here they were in a situation that they should be running away from as far and as fast as they could and Jason was talking about hearing Pasiphae out – about giving the King and Queen a chance. A chance to do what? As far as the burly wrestler could see no good could come of the situation that they found themselves in. At best Jason was likely to be taken away from them and at worst the King might turn on him at any moment no matter how reasonable he might seem right now. As the big man watched, however, Jason glanced up at him. Hazel eyes met blue and for an instant Hercules saw a flicker of both understanding and sorrow in them before the gaze flicked away again. His heart clenched. Jason, it seemed, understood just what this situation could entail, had fully realised that it was likely to be the beginning of the end of life as they knew it, and was simply voicing what he needed to believe to get himself through the next few hours; was saying what he believed Pythagoras needed to hear.

"You should try to eat something," Hercules muttered. "Have a pastry… they're sweet."

Jason gave a quick laugh and shook his head.

"I'm not exactly hungry," he said. "It's not all that long since breakfast and I'm still a bit too worked up to eat anyway." He pulled a rueful face. "Besides knowing my luck I'd just get greasy marks on the furniture or something and I think I've made a bad enough impression already today."

"I am sure it is not as bad as you think," Pythagoras responded comfortingly. "The King was perfectly polite and pleasant when you spoke to him to accept his offer to come here and have a discussion."

"Offer?" Hercules spluttered. "It was an order!"

"I'm trying not to make him worry," Pythagoras told the big man with exasperation.

"Right, right… of course," Hercules said. "I'm sure the King means well and the fact that he's left us here for ages despite saying it was urgent that he spoke to you doesn't mean a thing."

"He is the King, Hercules," Pythagoras pointed out reasonably. "The city is in the middle of a siege. It is likely that something has come up that required his immediate attention."

Before the big man could respond further the door opened and a short, pompous looking man bustled in looking down at a paper in his hand.

"Your Majesty, I…" he began. He looked up and saw the three men sitting on the couches and trailed off, looking them up and down. "Who are you?" he demanded sharply. "What do you think you are doing lounging around in the royal quarters?"

"We were told to come here," Jason answered as inoffensively as possible. "My Lord," he added taking in the man's expensive chiton and supercilious manner.

The pompous man's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"You will stand when you address your betters," he all but screamed. "Don't you know who I am?"

"I'm afraid I don't My Lord," Jason said mildly. In his experience anyone who felt the need to use the phrase 'don't you know who I am' was generally self-important, arrogant and therefore not worth worrying about.

"I am the Lord Kephalon." He took in Jason's blank uncomprehending look and turned almost purple with rage. "Chief Advisor to the King."

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. He did _not_ want to start his meeting with the King by getting into an altercation with Minos' right hand man. Somehow he felt that would make an even worse impression than having a meltdown in the Temple had already done. Painfully he pushed himself to his feet, feeling Hercules and Pythagoras drawing close on either side of him and knowing that they were there to provide both physical _and_ emotional support if he should need it.

"I will hazard that you were not told to lie on the furniture and eat the food meant for His Majesty," Kephalon continued.

"We were told to make ourselves comfortable My Lord," Hercules protested.

"You lie," Kephalon hissed. "A servant would never be told to treat the royal chambers in this way."

"I'm not a servant," Jason answered hotly, his temper beginning to fray partly as a result of all the pressures of the day and partly because the man's attitude irritated him. "None of us are."

"You stand there dressed in little more than rags and tell me you are no servant?" Kephalon stated incredulously. "You are impertinent as well as lazy… _and_ a liar. I will have you flogged for this." He glared at Jason and then flicked his eyes over the other two as well. "That goes for all of you… and the servant who trained you. They clearly did not teach you manners _or_ proper behaviour. Afterwards you will be thrown out. We will see how you like begging on the streets in winter with a siege going on. You will rue the day you ever dared to sit on His Majesty's furniture!"

"I'm not a liar," Jason answered. "We were told to come here and make ourselves comfortable until the King could see us. He knows we are here My Lord."

"I will not be spoken to in this manner by a serving boy," Kephalon exclaimed. His face took on a cunning expression. "I will make you sorry you were ever born boy."

"I already am," Jason muttered under his breath. A startled and horrified look from Pythagoras told him that he had spoken a little louder than he had thought.

"You are clearly a thief who I have caught in the midst of robbing the private chambers of the royal family," Kephalon continued slyly. "You were desecrating the room when I arrived… eating food intended for the King and his family and were just in the process of stealing the statue from the family shrine. I will call the guards and you will be taken before the King for trial. At the very least you will lose a hand."

"I'm not a thief," Jason protested. "My friends and I have done nothing wrong My Lord." It was getting increasingly hard for him to remain civil and alongside him he could feel Hercules bristling, ready to defend his friends and then make a break for it if the situation required it.

"Do you really believe that the King will believe your word over mine?" Kephalon hissed. "You are a peasant… the lowest of the low… I am the King's chief advisor…"

"You _were_ the King's chief advisor," a deep voice from behind him said dryly. "Although I believe that your position may be reviewed shortly."

Kephalon turned, his face draining of colour

"Your Majesty," he stammered, "I have found these servants abusing the comforts of your family chambers. I was in the process of chastising them when you entered."

"So I heard," Minos responded with his eyebrow raised. He fixed his chief advisor with a lethal stare. "How dare you?" he demanded. "It is not enough that you insult the Queen and keep news from me relating to the wellbeing of my people… but now you abuse my guests within my own chambers!"

"Guests?" Kephalon stuttered looking at his king with frightened eyes.

"Indeed," the King snapped. "A situation has… arisen that requires my immediate and personal attention and these men have vital information for me. I instructed that they were to be brought here and made comfortable and yet I find you abusing them."

"My Lord I was unaware of these matters," the chief advisor said desperately, his tone humble. "I swear I was acting only out of concern for your best interests. I did not mean to cause any offence."

Minos looked at him coldly.

"Very well," he said. "We will deal with this matter and your other recent failings later. For now you may leave us."

As Kephalon shuffled out the King turned towards his other three companions. "Please be seated," he instructed, his tone proclaiming that he expected to be obeyed without question. "I believed that you would be more comfortable here than in a more formal setting," he said to Jason. "Your friend informed me that you had sustained an injury some days ago that was strained last night and that you should by rights be resting. Whilst our conversation cannot wait I would not see you in any discomfort for it."

He didn't miss the narrowed glare that Jason levelled briefly at Hercules. Clearly the lad had not wished to show any weakness to people who he viewed as outsiders. Minos smiled inwardly. Jason it seemed was wary and over the next few weeks he would need to be. The Oracle had said that the boy tried to see good in everyone but did not give his trust easily – as far as the King was concerned that was all to the good.

"I would have been here sooner but I was unavoidably detained," Minos continued. "It seems that there are many matters that only the King can deal with… too many it seems at times." He sighed. "There are many things which we must discuss and it seems that we have very little time to discuss them. "Your mother will join us shortly but for now we must begin in her absence."

He did not miss the way that Jason flinched involuntarily at the mention of Pasiphae or the way his posture hardened defensively. The young man's hazel eyes flickered with warring emotions; anger, fear, sorrow, hurt and – perhaps the most surprising – hope. Minos narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The little glimmer of hope he had seen in his stepson's eyes had been unexpected. He would need to think more about it later and filed it away for future reference. Jason, Minos noted with some displeasure, had still not followed his earlier instruction to sit down, although his friends had done as they were told and positioned themselves on one of the couches.

"Be seated," the King said more firmly allowing some of his disapproval to bleed into his tone.

Once Jason had sat himself down Minos took his own place in an ornate chair set opposite and clearly reserved for his use. He reached forwards to pour himself a goblet of wine, taking it thoughtfully and swirling the fluid around inside the drinking vessel as he planned his next words carefully.

"What I have to say relates to both the past and the future of Atlantis; to the resolution of this siege that we find ourselves in; to the conduct of the war between ourselves and Amphigeneia." He paused and fixed each of the other three men with a hard stare. "What I have to say does _not_ go outside this room. Am I clear?"

"You have my word My Lord," Jason answered softly.

"Good," Minos responded. "Although our time is short I find I must begin with a brief history lesson. How much do you know of our recent past?"

"In know that you have been King for more than twenty years Your Majesty," Jason began, "and that the King before you was called Aeson. I know that there was a civil war and that you took the throne in the aftermath. Beyond that I don't really know all that much."

"I suppose that that is better than nothing and at least you will be able to listen to all I say without the prejudice of foreknowledge. Still with time passing so rapidly I had hoped to cut the history lesson short. I must out of necessity be concise. There will be time enough for you to learn of our history… of _your_ history… later." Minos broke off briefly and took a long sip of wine. "Where to begin?" he mused. "Perhaps the best place to start is with the treaty between Atlantis and Amphigeneia. Our two cities had been in conflict for centuries; for decades there had been open warfare. The endless wrangling was bleeding both cities dry in terms of both resources and men. King Anaxandros' father, King Hagnon, had only recently assumed the throne. He was more far sighted than any of his predecessors had been and believed that the future of Amphigeneia lay in trade _not_ conquest. Atlantis was, and had always been, the more powerful of the two states; was already a trading hub with links that spread beyond the Aegean. Hagnon sent emissaries to King Cretheus… your grandfather… to plead for peace. A treaty was drawn up between Amphigeneia and Atlantis which should have ensured peace between our cities forever."

"But Anaxandros has broken this treaty," Jason said.

"Indeed," the King answered. "He is claiming to have just cause, however. He is claiming that a clause exists within the treaty which justifies his actions. I have some of the finest minds in Atlantis looking into it… men so well versed in the law that it seems impossible that they will fail to find the truth… but at present it looks as though Anaxandros' claim – spurious as it undoubtedly is – does indeed have some legal validity as the clause he is citing may indeed exist."

He broke off as Pasiphae entered the room and gave his wife a brief smile. Pasiphae looked around the room imperiously, her eyes lingering longingly on her son before turning to regard his companions coldly.

"I had just begun to explain the situation we find ourselves in to Jason, my love," Minos murmured to her as she took her seat in a chair at his side.

"Surely this is a conversation that should be taking place in private?" Pasiphae responded sharply not bothering to hide her disapproval at the presence of Jason's friends.

"We are in private," Minos answered firmly. "These men have proved their loyalty on more than one occasion and I believe that they have a right to be here."

"As you wish," Pasiphae answered stiffly, returning to her contemplation of her son.

Jason found her gaze more than a little unnerving. He knew well enough that the Queen was a formidable woman and wondered anew what she might want of him.

"The clause Anaxandros is claiming exists in the treaty states that if either Hagnon or Cretheus – or either of their sons – were to die without a legitimate heir the crown of that state would pass to the king of the other. Since Aeson disappeared more than twenty years ago and was presumed to have died and his only child – you – were believed to have been killed the throne should by law have passed to Anaxandros."

"If King Anaxandros believes he has a right to the throne then why has it taken him so long to claim it?" Jason asked with a frown.

"He _claims_ it was because he was making sure that the heir of Aeson was really dead and was not going to return to claim the throne," Pasiphae answered. "I think we can all agree that that is nonsense. It is far more likely that he believed Atlantis was far too strong for him to conquer. With the recent plague weakening the city he is likely to believe that this is his best chance. The clause in the treaty is merely an excuse for him to invade."

"He has declared a truce which began at dawn. We have been given two days to either produce Aeson's heir – which he clearly believes we will never be able to do – or surrender the city to him or the bombardment will begin again," Minos said. "This is where you come in. It seems that the Gods have chosen to favour our city and have returned you to us at the most opportune time. I wish to inform Anaxadros of your existence. To let him see that Atlantis' Prince has come home."

Jason fought down the first tendrils of panic that began to creep up from deep within him. This was what they wanted? To have him declare his parentage in front of the whole world? To live his life by their rules and to have all choice – all sense of self – stripped away from him?

"You can't expect him to believe that though," he said, desperately trying to buy himself some time to think. "He'll just say you're lying, My Lord."

Minos smiled softly.

"I am aware of that," he admitted. "I am merely seeking to buy some time. Our situation is not so desperate yet. We have stout walls and supplies for many months to come and clean, fresh drinking water available to us. We also have allies who _will_ come to our aid. I have already despatched messengers and have received news that several of our allies are already on route. Anaxandros is far from popular and there are other kings who would wish to see his downfall. They need time to get here, however. Even if Anaxandros does not believe what he is being told he will have to at least appear to investigate it if only to give himself credibility if by some chance he does manage to take Atlantis." He paused and looked shrewdly at Jason. "I am not speaking of telling the whole world of your identity. I do not believe it would benefit either one of us to proclaim your existence so openly at this time. There will be a few trusted members of the court who will need to know the truth out of necessity, but the city at large will not know the truth. I will request an audience with Anaxandros to discuss terms. It is likely that that will take place on neutral ground between the city and his army. All I am asking for is your presence at my side."

"But wouldn't people wonder why I was there?" Jason asked. "I mean people in Atlantis. I'm not a member of your guard or anything…"

"You clearly have no experience of warfare," Minos said with some amusement. "It is usual for two opposing armies to have champions. These men fight against each other much as they would within an arena. As the man who slayed the Minotaur and saved my daughter from the brazen bull I would have plenty of cause to name you as a champion of Atlantis and as such your place at my side as part of my honour guard would cause no comment."

"And that's all you want?" Jason asked slowly. "Me to go with you to Anaxandros and tell him I'm Aeson's son?"

"That is all I want for now," Minos confirmed. "We still have many things to discuss Jason and many decisions to make for the future. For now though let us deal with the present and rid ourselves of the Amphigeneian irritation. Is this agreeable?"

Jason swallowed hard. What Minos was asking didn't really seem all that much, although he couldn't help but worry as to where it might inevitably lead. He had promised Ariadne that he would do everything in his power to protect her and this did seem to be a way to fulfil that promise. All he would need to do would be to play a part for a couple of days; to stand with the King at one or two private meetings. Hopefully it would buy the city the time that they needed for their allies to arrive – a week or two at most then. And if they failed he could join the defence on the walls as soon as he was able.

"I'll do whatever I can to help, My Lord," he said. "I give you my word that I will do whatever I can for the sake of Atlantis."

"Good," Minos responded. He looked appraisingly at Jason once more. "I would have you stay in the Palace for the next few days though… to receive instruction in how to behave when you meet King Anaxandros if nothing else. If he is to believe that you are the heir of Aeson then you must learn to act like it. You do not have the bearing or manners of a prince but such things can be learned. Rooms will be found for you within the family wing. Indeed I believe that your mother already has plans for your accommodation." He saw the brief look of panic that flittered across his stepson's face and smiled reassuringly. "Do not worry. Beyond the next few days you will not be held here against your will and your friends may stay with you if you so desire." Minos glanced at Hercules and Pythagoras. "I do not believe it would be possible to separate you from them anyway and as I have no wish to tie up my guards in the ridiculous exercise of keeping you in and your friends out I believe it will be simplest if they stay. They will of course be free to come and go as they wish. Once our dealings with Anaxandros are complete you will also be free to come and go as you please – although we must discuss future arrangements at a later date. That is not _so_ bad is it?"

Jason shook his head dumbly, unsure of what to think or say.

"Good," the King said. "Now I am led to believe that you are under doctor's orders to rest and that you should be in bed with your leg elevated for the rest of today and tomorrow morning at the very least."

Jason shot a murderous look at Hercules who returned his gaze coolly, clearly completely unabashed – much to Minos' amusement.

"I will leave you now," the King proclaimed. "Your mother will see that you are comfortably situated and any needs you have are attended to," he hesitated and looked at his wife. "I believe that she wishes to have some time to get to know you. She will never tell you how deeply she grieved for your loss or how much she has longed for you. I hope that today we have taken the first steps along a road towards a united future for all of us. Know that you are welcome in our home and in our lives."

He stood and swept from the room. Jason watched him go with distinctly mixed feelings. Much as being in the presence of the King – of having his attention focussed on _him_ – had made him feel awkward and uncomfortable, it had at least postponed the inevitable moment when he must deal with the reality of _who_ his mother was. Absently he raised a hand to his forehead and briefly massaged his temples, feeling the first hints of a burgeoning headache appearing. A pointed clearing of the throat made him look away from the door and he turned to face his mother for the first time at last.


End file.
